Heaven's Intentions
by ColorMeContented
Summary: To Dean Winchester there has never been a better time to pick up everything and run after a mysterious discovery in Dad's old storage locker turns their lives upside down all over again. Destiel, AU, M for safety.
1. Prologue

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's note:** So I was sitting around bored in math during finals week 'n I was all like "Imma write me a story!" This is my first Destiel but definitely not my first story, reviews are love friends, I live on reviews, I eat them for breakfast lunch and dinner, don't let me starve! But most of all… please enjoy!

And the whole thing is unBeta'd so all mistakes are my own… sorry…

**Prologue**

The air was cold, even inside, nipping at the exposed skin of his face and neck. A demonic shriek rang through the halls and John Winchester bolted. He should have been more worried about his steel-toed boots clunking against the hard concrete acting as a beacon for every demonic soul, shouting "Here he is! Come and rip his lungs out!" But John didn't care, pushing himself harder against his fatigue and away from the hot breath that raked down the back of his neck.

He yelped, his toe caught on a dip in the rugged floor which seemed to cackle in delight at his misfortune, but it was not the mockery of concrete that caused his breath to come in heavy ragged heaves but the rushing cloud of smoke and the glimmer of eager grins from within it.

John cringed and scuttled back, hoping to reach his feet before he was overtaken. His eyes slipped shut; he would never see his boys again, would never teach Dean to ride a bike, or watch Sam take his first steps.

He hadn't noticed that his eyes were shut, but when he opened them the blood ran from his face and his pupils blew wide if only from fear. John could _feel_ the brush of the smoke against his face as it lingered, for the most part, an inch from his nose. He had to do something! Get up; run, at least put some dignity into his death; but no words passed his lips, his muscles stood frozen.

"Where iss the book?" The demon hissed, knowing that the writhing form of black smoke and dust disturbed John Winchester immeasurably.

The old hunter shifted uneasily attempting to conceal better the tattered knapsack slung over his shoulder and concealed in the folds of his outermost coat.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stuttered, bemused, a smirk playing on his lips, "but I do know that if I die here you can't make me help you find it." His smirk grew wider, a guttural groan ripped through the creature before him. John chuckled, _It's frustrated with me._

He made a slow move to stand up, throwing his hands up in front of him as the demon lurched forward threateningly.

"All I'm saying is," John's eyes shifted anxiously, searching for any and every possible escape route. There were none. His only option was to turn and run. "That maybe we could help each other, I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine." He added delicately.

John slid one blood stained foot back slowly; the creature did not notice.

"Go on," The demon drawled, obviously not thrilled to be working with a hunter, particularly the one who had just tried to send him/her… it, back to Hell.

John glanced around once again, still seeing nothing that could possibly offer him aid. But he would get home again, demon be damned. He. Would. Get. Home.

He paused a moment, as though to answer, as his right hand delved suddenly into the left inside pocket of his outermost coat and swung.

The holy water found its mark, burning and eating away at the now enraged pillar of smoke (if that were even possible). The demon wailed and gnashed its teeth, barreling after John who had wasted no time in his flight.

The shattering of glass reverberated off the trees surrounding the penitentiary as John flung his body haphazardly through the weather beaten material. Impressively, the old hunter ignored the gashes marring his flesh and splinters of glass protruding from his body in favor of hitting the ground in a sprint.

The wailing of angered Hell spawn faded quickly behind him but John kept up the pace, bringing the knapsack from his back to cradle it against his chest. His legs were lead anchors beneath him in his own ocean of unconsciousness that threatened to swallow him up. Then he collapsed, holding himself up a moment against the nearest tree before sinking to the ground in agony, knowing that he was finally safe. _Or as safe as a hunter can be._ He mused sourly.

As soon as each shard of bloodied glass was removed from his flesh and his wounds began to piss blood once again, John reached into the knapsack, fishing around for his cell and hoping that it wasn't broken.

He sighed in relief as he felt the familiar cool plastic of his brick of a phone in his hand and dialed the only number he'd memorized so far. After a moment of painful expectation the line cleared and John was met with a tired yawn and a gruff voice.

"Damnit John, it's one in the morning! I finally got Dean to go to bed – the goddamn phone got the kid right back up!"

John cringed as the man's voice bounced around in his head, that demon's screeching had really done a number on his eardrums.

"I know Bobby, I know, I'm sorry. Do you think you could spare a minute to come and get me? Bitch got me good."

For a moment the line was dead and John thought Bobby'd hung up on him, Lord knew he deserved it, running off on his own like that. He heard Bobby sigh. "Listen up Dean," the old man said away from the phone, "I'm gonna go pick up yer daddy. I want you to stay vigilant here 'n take care of yer brother, got that?" John heard the pipsqueak voice of his son celebrating his freedom in the background and winced. He hated leaving the boys alone, it damn near killed him every time, but he took those feelings and shoved them to the back of his mind, much in the same way that Dean would twenty years later.

Nodding his head solemnly John grunted a 'Thanks Bobby' before hanging up the phone. He leaned his head back against the cool bark of the tree beneath which he rested and pressed a hand flush to one of the many cuts and gashes. With his other hand he picked out the book and held it up to the dwindling light.

It was old, leather bound and so worn and frayed about the edges that John wasn't sure how it hadn't fallen apart the moment he touched it. strange runes, the crevices of which seemed to glow blue out of the corner of his eye, covered the spine of the small book as well as the front and back covers while larger, more defined, etchings encircled it widthwise, this wrapping capped in a lock.

The thing was fragile and John was certain he could shatter it with the smallest effort but as he put one hand on either side of the lock his muscles strained against it as it refused to yield to him. John was puzzled, not ready to give up on trying to open the book, but puzzled both by the flimsy leather's unwarranted strength and the wonder of why he'd stolen it in the first place. He hadn't been looking for it _per se_; the job was originally flushing out a conglomeration of Hell spawn from the abandoned prison then going home to his boys for Christmas, a snowflake landed on his cheek. Damnit, if Bobby didn't show up soon it was going to be a cold night. John studied the book in his lap.

It had called him.

And, no, it didn't whisper him further into the labyrinth penitentiary with sweet irresistible promises but calmly whispered to him from that innermost cell where the demons kept their prizes. It called him so he took it, simple as that.

John's eyes narrowed, shying away from the burning sensation the bright headlights of his car gave him, and smiled.

"Four hours from Sioux Falls to here, he made pretty good time." John mused. He stashed the book in his bag and hoisted himself off the ground, sauntering over to Bobby, eager to hit the road and see his boys.


	2. Midnight Snack

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's Note:** So I was just reading my Bible the other day and remembered the story of Samuel and wondered if it would make a good story semi-parallel with something Supernatural… does it? You tell me.

Still un-Beta'd… sorry for the mistakes

Chapter one: Midnight Snack

Dean Winchester grunted appreciatively as Sam took the heavy, mildew soaked brown cardboard box from his arms to place it at the base of their ever growing 'keep' pile. It was hard not to understand how every box, gun, charm and amulet in the place had either something sticky or slimy on it – Sam cringed as his fingers met with a moss covered paperback – the place had belonged to their Dad after all, and he was never really one for cleanliness.

Dean started as he turned, yelping and dropping a box of cursed items all over the floor when met with two intense blue eyes that had not been there a moment before.

"Hello, Dean."

The elder Winchester gave his friend a sour look before stooping to carefully return the objects to their respective boxes. "I told you ya don't have to say the same thing every time we meet."

Castiel furrowed his brow, "And I have told _you_ that it is not an appropriate "emergency" to call an ethereal being to assist in domestic cleaning."

"Does this look anywhere _near_ domestic to you?" He gestured to the guns and knives littering the walls, "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Dad kept live nukes in here and you want us to cross state lines with 'em?" Dean's voice raised and the Angel opened his mouth, prepared to complain again when Sam stepped in, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"Look Cas, we know you're busy in Heaven and all but Dean's right, this stuff could be dangerous – even more dangerous if someone who doesn't have a clue got their hands on it." Sam slapped the Angel's back causing him to lurch forward towards Dean who grabbed Cas' arm suddenly, keeping him upright but Cas' weight was too much and pulled them both down over one of the multitude of boxes filled with John's belongings, sending its contents sprawling to the floor.

Castiel straightened himself quickly and engaged in the task of cleaning up a Winchester mess yet again and ignoring his friends' juvenile laughter.

After he'd gotten over his fit of giggles, Dean got up to help Cas and chuckled again at the light blush still gracing his cheeks. Cas caught him looking and turned away, embarrassed.

Dean grabbed up one of the many tattered leather-bound books and opened his mouth to tease his friend but was cut off by the slow drawl of someone calling him.

'_Wiiinchester.'_

Assuming it was just his brother being a donkus Dean snapped, "Shaddap Sam," before getting back to his work.

"What?" Sam asked as he strode in the door, he had to duck to avoid hitting his head.

Dean glanced at Cas then over his shoulder at his brother in confusion.

"Didn't you say that?"

Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother, "Dean, I didn't _say_ anything, since Cas helped out I thought I'd go pay the owner early so we can skip out of here when we're done."

"But," Dean raised an eyebrow, irritated now, "You heard it didn't you Cas?"

The Angel looked over at Dean and merely tilted his head at that confused forty-five degree angle.

"I do not understand, Dean, is this what you call a prank?" Dean was now irate.

"That's what _I_ wanna know –"

'_Wiiinchester'_

Dean whirled around himself. "There it is again! Who else is in here? How do you not _hear_ that?!"

Castiel and Sam glanced at each other worriedly then around the room; empty except for the single mound of remaining boxes and the weapons covering the walls. There was no place to hide either, what with an Angel in the room, and there was certainly no one on the ceiling. Sam shuddered at the analogy.

He took a step forward to tap Dean's shoulder only for his brother to cry out that he'd heard it again. Sam turned Dean around, grasping both his shoulders.

He said solemnly. "Dude, I think being around Dad's stuff is messing with your head. Let's come back tomorrow."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he began to protest.

"I agree," Cas interrupted, "Your wellbeing is of far more import than retrieving your father's things."

"What the Hell do you know?!" Dean snapped as he shrugged off Sam's hands, "My friggin' _Dad_ ran off then got himself kill and now I gotta deal with all his shit, it's _hard_ man! –" the misty look in Castiel's eyes stopped him.

"You will find that I know much of absent Fathers, Dean, and that I am faced with the burden of his… _shit_ far more often."

Castiel's heartbroken expression sobered Dean instantly. He wiped a calloused hand over his face in exasperation.

"You're right Cass, I'm sorry. We should go."

Then Sam witnessed something interesting. Dean pulled the Angel into a kind, albeit awkward, hug where his arms wrapped too tight around Cas' shoulders, his entire body was rigid and Cas' hands snaked nervously around his back. Dean rested his chin on the top of Castiel's head and Cas' whole face was squished into Dean's shoulder. Dean was comforting the Angel after his insensitive outburst and, though it was all wrong, it seemed to be working.

The two had their own special brand of emotionally constipated affection, Sam knew this, but the hugging was a recent addition that had started some weeks ago with Cas watching a movie. A porno. Again.

He had been trying to unravel the complicated portrayals of love shown on the film and had come to the conclusion that physical contact was a very effective way to show someone that they were cared for. So that's what he asked Dean for. At first Sam's brother had been a bit freaked out but after realizing that Cas didn't really understand that he had asked his best friend for sex he'd given him a simple hug and Cas was satisfied. And had Sam snickered in the corner whilst his brother dodged having The Talk with one of God's warriors.

And the hugging was an action that stuck. Sam had to admit that the strange practice diminished in oddness every time but it was still painful to watch.

As soon as the two were finished Castiel pressed two fingers to each of the brothers' foreheads and they were gone.

'_Winchester!_

_He's here_

_Found him!_

_Found him found him found him found him found him found him found him found him found him found him found him found him found him!_

_COME!'_

Dean jolted upright in his bed, a cold sweat dripping uncomfortably down his face. As soon as he was sure he was not being attacked he released the white-knuckle grip he had on the gun he kept in his pillow and relaxed back on his memory foam mattress.

_It remembers me_, he mused with a grin.

Unfortunately his bliss would not last as it was damn near impossible for him to re-visit sleep once he'd woken up.

With a sigh and a groan Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, glad for the bunker so that he and his brother didn't have to sleep in a crappy motel every night. He trudged to the kitchen for a beer and a sandwich. He opened the fridge then paused suddenly when –

'_Wiiinchester_'

Dean kept still, working on convincing himself that he was still half asleep.

'_Wiiinchester_'

His neck muscles twitched, eager to give in.

'_WINCESTER!_'

Dean whirled around, expecting a whole gaggle of vampires or a ghost or a demon, what he was not expecting, however, was a book lying face up on the table behind him.

"What?" He barked. He probably would have been more wary had he been fully aware of if Sam had been there to nag him.

'_Come'_ the disembodied voice that only he could hear cooed gently, pulling him in. he knew that only something evil could sound so sweet, he was Dean frickin' Winchester, of course he knew that! And yet he found his feet moving beneath him of their own accord and his hands reaching for the blue etched leather-bound beauty. His fingers caressed the cover as he studied the book in his hands, not caring to question how it got there in the first place.

'_Wiiinchester'_ it practically purred and, without a clue as to what he was actually doing or why his fingers hooked under the flap of leather connected to the lock and popped it open.

Dean shut his eyes immediately to protect them from the searing light which shone, and then nothing. No death blow, no cackling demon, no Sam laughing after a well-executed prank.

Dean cracked an eye open warily to see one small spot of light glowing between the open pages of the book, but that wasn't the most peculiar thing to Dean. The book was blank, or at least the pages directly in front of him were. Dean froze again, intending to pray to Cas if things got hairy when the shimmering ball of light softly floated up to his hand which, he had not noticed, was outstretched.

A sharp pain tore through his body on contact, making his vision go black just long enough for him to freak and choke out, "Sammy!"

Dean's entire body shook in abject pain as he held himself up with his hands braced on the table with the light dancing around his body.

"Cas! Sam!" he bellowed again his knees buckling under the immense amount of energy that yelling took. But he did not hit the floor, Dean felt two strong arms snake around his waist, holding him up, and practically dragging him to a chair. Dean smelled the sweet scent that always accompanied Castiel and opened his eyes, not realizing he'd closed them.

Dean blinked a few times before registering that Sam was there too and that both were staring at him wide eyed in horror.

"What?" he asked. Sam tried to tell him but all that came out was dumb babble. Dean turned to Castiel.

"Look at your arms Dean."

The hunter obeyed, starting at the sight before him. Every inch of his skin was covered in runes, etched in blue. The lines of written word covered his arms and hands. Dean leapt up despite Sam's concern and tore his shirt off only to see that the runes had not stopped at his shoulders.

"What the Hell?"

"Can you read it Cas?" asked Sam who had rediscovered his voice.

"No, I cannot," the Angel was astounded and peered curiously at Dean's skin, "This dialect is far older than I."

"You damn spec!" Dean growled as he swatted at the fluttering glow, intent on capturing it. "If these damn things are on my dick I swear to _God_ –"

"Dean!" Castiel reprimanded.

"This is not the time to talk about blasphemy, Cas! There you are you little motherfucker." Dean exclaimed as his hand closed over the light, "Time to say goodbye you damn –"

"Dean!" the hunter halted upon witnessing the absolute authority in the Angel's voice. Castiel approached the rune covered man. "Do not hurt it. Let me see." he said, kinder now.

Dean relinquished his hold immediately blushing at his embarrassment at the tone that Cas had taken with him and his current shirtless proximity to Castiel. Which didn't bother him at all, nope, not one bit.

Slowly the tiny creature in Dean's palm hovered free, suspended in the air in front of Cas' nose. Dean had to admit that Cas looked funny with his eyes crossed in an effort to concentrate on something so small.

"Well?" Dean demanded impatiently, "What is it?"

"Looks like a fairy to me." Sam piped up as he scanned the blank pages of the small book which remained on the table. Dean frowned.

"Oh great," Dean groaned, "I'm not the friggin' King of the fairies am I?"

Castiel looked at him seriously, "No, Dean, you look nothing like Oberon. This," Cas said smiling as the spec circled around his single outstretched finger energetically, "Is a Cherubim."

"A what?" Sam asked, finally joining his brother and Cas as the speck suddenly began to hum melodiously.

"It's a mini-Angel, like a toy poodle or a stubby legged cat, if a stubby legged cat could be an Angel of the second highest order of the Ninefold Celestial Hierarchy and attendant to God."

Both Cas and Sam gave Dean odd looks.

"How did you know that?"

"Your big brother's smart Sammy, I know things."

"The question is…" Cas began as he peered at his tiny sibling, "What does it want with _you_ Dean Winchester?"

"Hell if I know," Dean shrugged and took a closer look at the Cherubim which took the form of a rather attractive lady in Dean's opinion. She had olive skin and wavy red brown hair, wore a blue tunic with purple accents and never stopped smiling.

"She just kept shouting 'Winchester' at me and when I finally answered it ordered me to 'come' that's all."

Castiel's eyes widened exponentially, "Is it true?" he whispered to the small creature, "Is it you?" the creature nodded erratically and zoomed past Castiel's face to perch in Sam's hair.

"So," Dean demanded, "What is it?"

Castiel picked up the blank book to examine it for himself.

"It is true that Cherubim are traditionally the attendants of God but there are a select few who once served as the bringers of the righteous to God." He turned back to the Winchesters, setting the book down, "I should hope that you remember the Old Testament story of the Prophet Samuel being called to duty by the voice of God in the night, only to receive his orders once he'd answered the call?"

Dean frowned, "That was her?" The Cherubim nodded again.

Sam rustled the ethereal being from his mane. "So if Dean's about to receive orders from God why is the book blank?"

Castiel held out his hand for the creature to land, it did and snuggled down in his palm; falling fast asleep very quickly. He chuckled, "It's been a long time since this little one has seen one of her brothers."

"But that doesn't answer why the book's blank Cas." Dean probed.

"She is a physical manifestation of the script you would expect to see on the page, literally the Word of God." Castiel paused in awe of his sister a moment, "This time, this place, there can only be one reason why she is here Dean, it has been thousands of years since she has been called upon."

"So I'm a prophet then?"

Castiel gently lowered the sleeping Cherubim back into her book and closed the cover. He turned back to the Winchesters with a grave look on his face that sent chills down Dean's spine. He couldn't decide if they were good chills or bad ones.

"No Dean," His scraping gravel voice loaded with emotion, "you are _the_ prophet."


	3. Rosen Tragedy

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's note:** Reeeeeviewww pleaseee!

Chapter two: Rosen Tragedy

The universe hated him, he knew that. After all he'd been through, the friggin' _Apocalypse_, and now this?!

"I don't want to be _a_ Prophet, _the_ Prophet or _any_ Prophet for that matter, I just wanna be me!" His brother shook his head in a rare display of defeat.

"I don't think you have a choice Dean."

"It seems as though God's plan for you has not yet come to an end." Castiel interjected gravely, "This is serious, I will consult Heaven for answers, but first," without invitation the Angel reached out, wrapping a cool hand around the back of Dean's neck and began chanting in Enochian.

The only thing that kept Dean from closing the distance between him and the Angel at that moment was the fact that Sam was right there, watching. Dean's body responded badly to his denial and the contact with Cas and heated up immensely to the point where the older Winchester wondered how Cas' hand had not yet been burned. He redirected his gaze to the little blue runes in a steady flow retracting from his limbs to concentrate in his tattoo, turning it a pale blue before ceasing to glow altogether.

Dean quickly recovered from the effects of Cas' touch electrocuting his flesh to inspect his body, every mark was gone. His head shot back up to look at the Angel.

"What was that?" Castiel nodded and took a step back, admiring his work.

"I've taken the runes marring your skin and concentrated them into one specific point, you tattoo. The only reason why they should come back is if she wills it." he said nodding towards the book.

Dean glanced the same way and back and the Angel was gone. Dean scoffed at the sudden disappearance of his friend and turned to his brother.

"What the Hell do we do now?!" Dean asked exasperated. Sam shrugged and turned the book over in his hands curiously, trying and failing to open it up. Dean chuckled and snatched the thing out of his hands, opening it right up and letting the Cherubim buzz around his head.

"I guess it only likes me."

"It?" Sam raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't she have a name? Castiel has a name…" Dean shrugged.

"It doesn't talk so it doesn't have one."

"Give her one?"

Dean folded his arms over his chest, "Why?"

Sam threw his hands in the air. "What would Cas say if he heard you addressing his sister as an 'it'? You saw how devastated he was just talking about his dad."

Dean frowned; he hated that look on Castiel's face, the misty-eyed sadness coursing through him, reminding him that after millennia of the largest, kindest, family he was utterly and completely alone.

The older Winchester remembered the expression on the other man's face as he gazed upon the visage of his sister. There was pure joy and awe there as well as one of those winning smiles usually reserved for Dean, the hunter felt a twinge of jealousy before remembering the intention that had prompted his recollection.

He nodded, "I see your point so… what's 'er name then?"

Sam gestured to the spec now perched stereotypically on Dean's right shoulder. "It's your call man; you're her Prophet so you name her."

Dean thought a moment, he'd never had occasion to name something before except for his car but he'd given up on that and simply called her 'baby.' So he had no idea what to name an Angel.

Suddenly the little thing began to hum again, it was a quiet sound, but soothing, immediately lulling Dean into an abnormal state of contentedness considering how fucked he was.

"Cecilia." He stated simply, moving to the couch and sitting with finality.

"Why?" Sam followed him and sat, elbows perched on his knees as he leaned forward with intrigue.

"I dunno, she likes to sing or hum or whatever and Cecilia was the patron saint of, like, music or something and it's just… nice?"

Sam stared a minute, dumbfounded. How did his brother suddenly know these things? With nothing but a GED under his belt Sam knew it wasn't because Dean was secretly smart. Sam glanced at the Cherubim wondering if she had anything to do with it.

"You know what I don't get though?" Dean observed as Cecilia kicked her feet against his shoulder, "After Chuck, well… you know, didn't Cas say there could only be one Prophet at a time? So what's up with me and Kevin both being around, in the same place even?"

Dean looked up away from the little Angel on his shoulder at Sam whose face was completely white, a look of sheer terror twisting his features. Dean's breath caught in his throat. No, not Kevin, he was like a little brother to Dean, maybe an annoying-slightly-paranoid-shut-in-awkward-as-Hell little brother but Kevin was family.

"Sam…" Dean began delicately, his hands lay rigid over his knees as terror rolled in the back of his throat, edging him on, "Where's Kevin?"

Immediately the brothers were on their feet, sprinting to the shut door of Kevin's room.

Of all the things to happen, Dean knew he was solely responsible for Kevin what with him being the reason that the Archangels who once protected Prophets were dead, and getting Kevin's girlfriend killed, and getting Kevin's mom killed… aw Hell!

Dean's fist smashed into the unyielding metal, not caring if his skin split and he bruised his knuckles, Kevin would answer the door, looking like Hell and politely ask them to stop abusing his room and disrupting his work but there was no such reply and Dean pounded harder still.

Realizing that brute force would get them nowhere – level head that he was – Sam sank to his knees and pulled a lock pick from his pocket.

There were two quick clicks and then groan of the heavy metal straining as it was forcefully shoved open and Dean barreled into the room, immediately regretting the action.

All of Kevin's belongings were in their place, his computer sat open and turned on, there were books strewn across the floor and paper littering every inch of wall, floor, ceiling and door.

Dean turned and fled suddenly, collapsing to his knees and vomiting violently before he scrambled to rip the shoes from his feet. Tears stung his wide eyes as he hunched over himself clutching his stomach. With a single touch from Cecilia the pain subsided though he continued to sit.

Sam's nose wrinkled at the putrid odor that wafted past the door frame, contaminating the rest of the bunker's air. He solemnly averted his eyes and pulled the door closed a bit so his brother could not see inside, for Kevin's room was now painted pink, though not to the brothers' knowledge, and not with paint.

Every inch of the Prophet's room was covered in a mist of pink matter that Sam deduced, and Dean's stomach confirmed, from the smell, was Kevin except for the two boot prints left by Dean and an Angel tablet shaped blank mark on the desk.

Sam sighed and stalked over to his brother who still sat silently on the floor and helped the older man up. All the while Dean mumbled admissions of fault. Kevin had been his responsibility and he had failed to protect him.

"It's not your fault Dean, we didn't know," Sam cooed as he steered his brother away from the room and his soiled shoes, to the kitchen to wrap his knuckles then to his room.

Dean was still shell shocked as Sam forced him to sit on his bed, the familiar surroundings and feel of his mattress bringing him back to Earth. In a rare display of real emotion he choked back a sob.

"Kevin." He paused a moment, willing himself to not break down, Sam didn't need to see him like that, "I should have known Sammy, when Cas said –" he choked again before hanging his head and covering his face with his hands.

"He was just a kid." He wailed, "He didn't even have a choice, we just dragged him into this and now…"

Sam sat next to his brother, rubbing small circles on his back the way Dean used to when they were children. He understood completely because Kevin's untimely death hit him hard too, but Dean was everybody's mother – always had been – and losing a child just so happened to be the worst scenario imaginable.

"It's going to be okay Dean." Sam's feeble attempt at soothing his brother only served to do him worse as he could no longer hold himself together and promptly fell apart. And there Sam sat, his arm around his brother, staving off his own inevitable breakdown. Dean deserved to mourn properly and damnit, Dean would get to.

The older Winchester sniffed one last time and wiped his eyes, his authoritative demeanor returning once more as he turned his steely look on Sam.

"First thing in the morning we call Cas, hunt that motherfucker and rip it's heart out its ass."

Sam nodded warily, "Yea Dean, sure thing."

"Cas, if you can hear me, I really need you man. Kevin's – Kevin's dead and I don't know what to do." when Dean remained alone far longer than it generally took for the Angel to arrive he sighed, slight anger peppering his tone, "The tablet's gone."

Dean frowned, he was sure that last bit would get Castiel to come running but as he lay on his back in his home in his room with his family just down the hall he felt alone. And since he was alone Dean neglected to deny himself the sudden urge to gaze into Cas' knowing eyes, the flowing water of which served to soothe his troubles. He wanted to feel Cas' inexperienced hands tumble over his body and the Angel's chapped lips pressed flush against his own, Castiel pinning him to the bed, dominant.

Dean groaned and bit his lip in an effort to silence himself. Not realizing that his hand had slipped beneath the rough material of his jeans and gripping the growing arousal in his boxers.

Dean halted suddenly and tore his hand from the offending area. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He sauntered, angry at himself for giving in, to the shower and turned on the coldest of water.

_I could stop doing this if I could just forget Cas._ He sighed.

_But I really don't want to._

Hooks tore at flesh, mercilessly puncturing organs, beating and not. Unyielding screams echoed off the walls. Fingernails clawed at concrete, chipping with sickening pops. Blood flowed. Bones broke and were ripped from conscious flesh. His throat burned, blinded by his own light.

Then he fell.


	4. Earth Angel

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's Note:** Review for me?

**Chapter three:** Earth Angel

Dean fidgeted impatiently with his FBI badge as Sam strode slowly from the local precinct to the Impala. Why the Hell was he taking his damn time?

"Damnit Sammy, I don't have all day!" Dean crossed his arms over his chest and slammed the back of his head against the headrest when Sam ignored him entirely.

They had tried _everything_. Nothing on the net, no Cas, Cecilia couldn't (or wouldn't) help, no other hunter knew, he couldn't find Cas, there was nothing from the Men of Letters, Cas was missing, there was nothing in Bobby's stuff, Cas, or Dad's, Cas, Cas, Cas!

Dean exhaled deeply, offsetting a panic attack that was sure to strike if he didn't control himself. It was a month, just thirty days. The Angel had been worse off for longer and Dean hadn't spared him more than a thought then. So why now?

"_Because you don't want to lose two people in one month_." That's what Sam had said and Dean was ready to accept it. Except for the fact that he knew it was wrong.

Sam stooped down and poked his head in the window. "They're letting us interview the possessed lady," he said, "you in?"

Dean gave a grunt of affirmation and climbed out of his car, bones creaking.

_I'm too damn old for this shit._ He straightened his jacket and followed his brother.

Dean was just about to greet the Sheriff when his phone rang. He quickly apologized to her and picked up the phone.

"What?" he barked.

"Yes, is this a Mister… Dean Winchester?"

"Yea?" the gears in Dean's mind suddenly decided to turn, the only person who had that name in their contacts was –

"Who are you and why do you have Cas' phone?" he demanded.

"If you would let me _speak_," sassed the now recognizably female voice, "my name is Lyla Wilson and I'm head nurse at St. Michael's hospital in Indianapolis. Someone brought your friend in an hour ago and… I'm sorry sir, he's in critical condition and I must urge any family to come quickly."

_Critical condition_

_CRITICAL CONDITION_

The cell tumbled from Dean's trembling fingers. Cas, Castiel, HIS ANGEL WAS DYING. His breath came suddenly in violent heaves as he dropped slightly, hands on his knees holding him up.

The sheriff panicked, having witnessed Dean's sudden drastic decline and rushed forward to help him, calling for Sam immediately. The younger Winchester barreled out of the interrogation room to his brother who, weakly and with a shaky hand, pointed to the discarded phone before collapsing to his knees entirely.

Sam couldn't believe his ears.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm so sorry Mister Winchester, but you should hurry, his vitals are declining quickly… is that other man okay?" Sam took a quick glance at Dean who had managed to calm himself down and was now busied with explaining to the cops why they had to go.

"He'll be better as soon as he sees Cas." Sam smiled sadly, knowingly, and hung up the phone.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam barely had the Impala stopped in front of the hospital when Dean burst out the door. He quickly followed him to the front desk.

"I spoke to Lyla on the phone, where's Cas?"

A pretty young blonde smiled kindly and pointed to the clock with the pen in her hand.

"I'm sorry sir, but visiting hours are over. If you could return at –"

Dean slammed his fist down, cracking the desk slightly. "NOW." He growled.

The girl looked as though she was about to call security when a busty round old nurse came charging up to them.

"Winchesters?!" she snapped. The brothers nodded. "Come with me." Lyla practically sprinted down the hall and up two flights of stairs, not giving even a thought to the elevator. The woman could _move_ considering that both Dean and Sam were winded when they approached room two fourteen and Lyla stopped, blocking the door with her body.

"Now boys, since I talked to you he's no longer critical but that doesn't mean he's out of danger. Poor thing woke up once already but he was so frightened he passed right back out, kept mumblin' about someone killing him…" she gave the brothers a sympathetic look, "I just wanted to let ya'll know, what you gonna see in there ain't so pretty." She shot one final sad look at Dean before gingerly pressing open the door.

Dean rushed forward despite the sting in his eyes and the clench in his stomach.

He gaped openly in horror at the sight before him.

Castiel was alive at least, his chest rose and fell and his heard beat steadily. The tubes and machines protruding from his skin was another story though. He looked like he had one of everything hooked up to him. Dean cringed. He hated hospitals but couldn't imagine what Cas had gone through, waking alone in an uncomfortable environment, people prodding you every which way.

Sam shook his head after ten minutes of watching Dean hover over Cas and walked out silently, taking Lyla with him.

"He needs time," he whispered when the nurse gave him a questioning look.

Dean glanced around himself, realizing that Sam and Lyla had cone before bringing his gaze forcefully to Cas' face.

Dean groaned and shut his eyes.

The majority of Cas' face was comprised of harsh bruising and deep gashes. His skin was puffy, cheeks and lips swelled with blood. A sweat had broken across his forehead. Dean opened his eyes and slowly peeled back the sheet covering the rest of the Angel and gasped.

He was all bandages soaked in blood and other bodily fluids. Castiel looked like a walking pin cushion that'd had every torture inflicted upon it, but not death.

_No, he's had that too…_

Dean silently pulled up a chair and re-tucked the blanket around Castiel's still body. He hadn't realized that he was crying until he felt the salty water hit his arm. He furiously wiped the tears away only for more to quickly take their place.

"Cas." He sniveled. Dean grasped the Angel's bandaged hand and just held it, his body wracked with sobs.

"Don't do this to me Cas," he pleaded, "just heal up and open your eyes. Tell me that I'm being irrational and you wanna go home. Please Castiel, I need you, I can't lose you, I-I…"

A groan reverberated through the room that had not come from Dean. His head snapped up to see the Angel's half lidded eyes peering at him.

"D… ean?" his voice was hoarse and strangled. It broke the older Winchester's heart.

Castiel's eyes flitted over his surroundings once before they flew wide open and his hands clutched at his throat. Cas shot into a sitting position, crying out in pain at the sudden movement as he tore at his bandages to no avail with mittened hands.

Dean launched his arms around Cas' frail body in order to keep him from thrashing and harming himself further.

"My Grace!" he wailed, coughing and choking on the blood that dripped from the corner of his lips. He paused a moment, causing Dean to falsely assume he'd finished only for an entirely new and exponentially more violent fit to tear through the Angel.

"MY WINGS!" the smaller man threw his battered body into Dean's firm embrace, "Dean they cut off my wings!"

The older Winchester could do nothing but call for help. He hit the call button and screamed at the top of his lungs and it seemed that the whole hospital had come to his aid.

The doctors descended upon them quickly but any attempt to separate Castiel from Dean was met with the Angel's firm determination to hold on and a series of weak punches which, honestly, wouldn't do anybody any harm. And, assuming that the family would like the comfort of the patient to come first, the doctors begrudgingly worked around Dean.

The hunter gazed sadly at the face in front of him that contorted in pain.

_What happened to you Cas?_

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean gently petted through Castiel's hair, trying and failing to get all the knots out while Sam fidgeted with Cecilia's book and she sat perched on Castiel's heart monitor, ever watchful for her brother.

Sam raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Why are his hands bandaged?"

"They said he scraped his fingers to the bone on concrete." Dean's voice was small as he switched from petting Cas' hair to caressing his face, tracing his fingers along the Angel's swollen features. Normally Sam would complain that Dean was making him uncomfortable but Sam knew the look on his brother's face. Bone crushing destruction of the soul, and he knew the feeling so he kept his mouth shut.

"Can't you do anything about this?" he asked Cecilia but she shook her small head and hummed a single note.

"She can't, she isn't equipped with the same abilities as other Angels unless it comes to her prophet. All she is is a mouth piece for God." Dean murmured. Sam's eyes narrowed.

"How do you even know that?"

Dean sighed, his eyes never leaving Cas' face. "Does it really matter Sam?" Dean's body sagged and the purple bags under his eyes were deep with worry.

"We should take Cas home." Sam said, knowing that's exactly what his brother was thinking and Dean's face lit up marginally.

"You get the car," said Dean, "I'll get him ready to go."

Honestly, at four in the morning there really wasn't any reason for Sam to hurry and get the car, both brothers knew this, they also knew that Dean needed his time with Cas.

Careful not to wake the sleeping Angel Dean raised him into a sitting position, it worried him that Cas was so light that the action took no effort. He took off his own jacket, intending to drape it over Castiel's shoulders when they caught his eye.

Two large raised black and blue splotches rested on Castiel's back from his shoulder-blades to waistline with the occasional crack in the skin still weeping blood. Suddenly Dean felt sick.

"Horrible aren't they?" the elder Winchester started at the slightly healed sound of Castiel's voice.

All he could think to say was, "You're awake."

"Yes," Castiel shuddered, gripping Dean's arm and a sudden jolt of pain shot through him, "and I am afraid I will not be recovering as quickly as is ideal."

"Wha – why?" Dean stuttered, caught off guard by Castiel's deep blue eyes and the tears that threatened to spill out of them.

"Because I am human Dean."


	5. The Healing Process

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Chapter four**: The Healing Process

Dean felt like a cannonball had just collided with his stomach.

"You… human."

"Yes Dean, I've had my Grace removed, quite forcefully." Cas cringed as Dean clumsily helped him shimmy into an extra pair of Dean's pants. The way they fell off the ex-Angel's thin waist troubled him but he kept his mouth shut, half dragging his friend out the door and down the hall. He darted suddenly into an unlit doorframe as the night guard passed slowly, covering Castiel's mouth with his hand to keep him from protesting Dean's body being pressed uncomfortably against his own.

"This isn't working," Dean stooped down to wrap his arm around the back of Cas' knees, keeping the other arm across his back and hoisted him up. Cas whimpered at the pain in his back, Dean held him close and rocketed out the doors and to the Impala that had just parked alongside the back door.

He ducked in the back seat quickly, making sure that Cas was comfortable before ordering Sam to drive. Dean kept his arm around the now languid man as they sped back home. As much as it pained him, Dean's eyes never strayed from Castiel's face.

"How's he doing?" Sam asked quietly as he entered the freeway onramp. He would never have considered anything but back roads if the brothers' best friend was not broken and bleeding on the back seat.

"Fine," Dean said, he felt Cas' forehead, "he's shivering, could you –"

Sam pressed a switch and the hot air roared to life. Dean immediately returned his attention to doting on the ex-Angel but Sam wasn't finished.

"Are… are you alright Dean?"

"Yea, why wouldn't I be?" Dean raised an eyebrow suspiciously at his brother, "is this about Kevin?" he struggled over the younger man's name and confirmed to Sam that Kevin was a part of it, but that's not what he meant.

"No Dean," Sam rolled his eyes, "It's about you. Sure, we just lost Kevin but you almost lost Cas and with your profound bond thing…" he felt his brother glaring at him in the rear view.

"The Hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing Dean it's just… you gotta tell him." Dean had the sudden urge to punch his brother but kept his composure.

"Tell him what?"

Sam was irritated now, squinting at his brother and snapping.

"I dunno man, that you love him? Or like him or whatever?"

The older hunter lurched forward only to still when Cas whimpered in his sleep.

"I don't!... I do _not_ love Cas, Sam."

Sam's grip tightened on the wheel. Why couldn't his brother just understand that if Cas died without ever knowing…

"Damnit Dean how is it that you can't accept this? It's happiness what you're feeling right now Dean, you know, what we've been wanting for years? And it's right there on your arm! Don't you think he deserves to know at least?!" he hit the brakes and shut off the car after entering the garage before turning around to face his brother.

"Dean, I _know_ this is hard for you to understand and you don't need any more shit on your plate right now but I'm speaking from experience. You _need_ to tell him how you _feel_ as soon as is humanly possible because if he dies…" Sam shook his head sadly, "You'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Dean swallowed against his dry mouth, not expecting a blowout from Sam of such magnitude and nodded.

"Yea, Sammy I'll do that… thanks."

Normally Dean would have demanded for his brother to cut out the 'chick-flick moments' but the anguish he saw swirling in Sam's eyes kept him from it. That boy'd been through a lot, he knew, but nothing that had ever put such an expression of pain and regret on his face. Or so he thought.

Dean shuffled himself out the door with Cas in his arms and dashed into the bunker with Sam hot on his heels. For a moment there Dean had expected Kevin to come flying out of his room looking to see if he could help. Dean's stomach sank as he hurried his unconscious friend to his room and laid him out on the bed. Normally he would have used the table he passed on the way in, but this was Cas. He deserved the best.

Sam expertly rigged up the morphine drip and attached it to Cas while Dean attempted to remove his bandages. He wasn't faring well though as the bloody cloth stuck fast to Cas' wounds causing him to squirm uncomfortably in his sleep. Sam sighed when he was done and took over Dean's job, manually turning his brother to face the wall and cutting off the man's tarnished bandages, replacing them with new ones.

He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a stern – but sympathetic – look.

"Take your time Dean." Then he left.

Dean nodded, waiting for the door to shut completely before he practically dove to Castiel's side, grasping the side of his face gingerly. He bit back a groan of agony upon seeing that Castiel's wounds had yet to begin healing. He really was human.

Without much thought in him Dean rose and shifted his friend over so there was just enough room in his bed for two and lay down, taking the ex-Angel's hand in his own.

"Do I really love you Cas? Was Sam right?" Dean chuckled at his brashness, Cas could wake up any second and here he was talking about love.

_Cas would think that's funny_. He thought, glancing over at the sleeping human, _how long will he be like this?_ He shuddered.

Dean didn't know much about love, the emotional side of it anyway but he assumed that it was something akin to the feelings he held for his little brother. Compassion, acceptance, he was overprotective of Sam, sure, but he'd never had a full blown panic attack over the boy. But love couldn't be worrying about someone – too stressful – love had to be something more, like the pull in his chest when Cas was near, or the way their eyes lingered upon one another _far_ longer than was appropriate, and the urge to protect him; to kiss his head and tell him that everything was going to be alright and wrap him up in his arms and never let go –

Dean took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He'd been fighting those emotions for years; not having a problem with his orientation personally but always worrying about what his family would think, but now his only family was Sam, and he had encouraged him.

"Damnit," he whispered, Dean took Cecilia's book out of his pocket and popped it open, letting the Cherubim free. "You got anything to help?"

She shook her head sadly ad flew near to Castiel's face, repeatedly tapping his nose in an attempt to heal him.

"It's alright," Dean sighed, "Just tell me if there's something important."

The hunter let his drooping eyes slip shut and he fell, thankfully, into a dreamless state of unconscious.

Dean squirmed a bit when Cecilia perched on his forehead cross-legged and began to hum. Slowly but steadily the language of the beginning of time spread itself over the expanse of Dean's skin.

Cecilia grinned, happy to have someone to share her secrets with, she could speak to Dean all night, she liked Dean. So she continued to talk, petting lovingly through the hair of her new Prophet.


	6. Family Matters

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's note:** Sorry to say that I'm starting to loose inspiration for this story, I'll finish it of course… but I won't like it! The only thing that could keep me going now are reviews *sobs*

**Chapter Five:** Family Matters

Dean awoke slowly, stretching himself at length before rolling onto his side and nestling down into hos oddly warm mattress when his fluttering eyes caught two blue orbs staring right at him.

"Cas?" Dean stilled a moment to regain his bearings. "Cas!" Dean shot up instantly. "Why didn't you wake me up man? Are you hurt?"

Castiel yawned and shook his head slightly, "I enjoy watching you sleep Dean. You make these faces –"

Dean frowned, wondering how often it was that the ex-Angel had watched him sleep. He shuddered at the thought, though not out of discomfort.

Dean wrinkled his nose suddenly.

"Geez Cas, you stink. I think it's time for a bath."

Castiel peered up at Dean. "What do you mean 'stink'? I believe I have never had such a problem before now." He cocked his head to the side, confused.

Dean sighed and wiped a hand over his face.

"Shit, right, sorry, human's a new thing for you. Your Grace kept you clean before didn't it?"

At the mention of his Grace Castiel looked down and nodded. Dean flinched.

_Real smooth ex-lax._

"Can you stand?" Castiel made an effort to lift himself from the bed only to collapse onto his back, sending a rocket of pain shooting through his body. He gasped in surprise when Dean picked him up.

"Don't get used to this." He warned and carried Cas to the bathroom, kicking the door open and setting Castiel gently on the closed toilet seat as he set the water temperature.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sure, when famine was on the move there was nothing in the world that he had lusted for but as Dean Winchester sat on the outside of the tub, assisting Cas in washing his hair, there was no greater temptation than the man's thin body and the mewls of pleasure that escaped his lips with each movement of his fingers.

"Ow! Dean, it's in my eye!" Dean wordlessly tilted Cas' head back and flushed his eye with clean water before returning to his menial task.

"You gotta be more careful Cas," Dean warned, "You only get two eyes this time around so if you mess one up you're SOL, gotta take better care of your meat suit… speaking of which…" he peered at Castiel's bony form curiously, "A whole month, huh?"

His friend nodded, wincing as a bubble of soap popped on his shoulder blade.

"I did not know what to do Dean. I have never been human before and I did not realize that the whole experience would be so terrifying," his small body wracked with laughter, "I think that first week I spent an hour sitting in the driver's seat of a car before I realized that it would not drive itself…"

Dean chuckled politely at his friend's anecdote, not really finding it funny. The Cherubim buzzed annoyingly at his ear and he brushed her away.

"Did you eat much?" Dean asked delicately.

"As much as one can when one has no funds and no friends," Dean winced at the unintentional jab, "I found the human appetite far more of a hindrance than a pleasure, mind you –" Cas' stomach erupted in loud grumbles, "I am a bit hungry."

Dean hurriedly pulled his friend out of the now lukewarm bath and wrapped a myriad of towels around him that had been warming on the heater and ushered him into the front room while Dean scrambled around the kitchen in search of food. He hadn't even thought that Cas hadn't eaten and that he'd been stolen away from the hospital before they could feed him. The guy was hungry as Hell but didn't complain one bit.

He glanced over at Cas who was picking at the bandage around his neck and just stared. He was beyond cute. He had a spaced out expression on his face, his lips parted slightly and, when Dean least expected it his tongue darted out, wetting his chapped lips. Dean felt a blush rise on his cheeks but forced it down and returned to the task of making Castiel his food.

Sam had been correct, after a while night of seeing Cas' smile in the dark behind his eyelids he'd realized it too. He loved Cas, or at least had a strong affinity for him, which shouldn't have been too surprising considering his thing for Angels he'd discovered during his time with Anna.

_I can't though, I can't tell him now. _Dean gazed out of the corner of his eye at Cas' still swelled and bruised body. _After he's better, then I'll tell him…_ he made a mental note to ask Sam about yesterday's outburst once they were alone.

He poured the slightly runny eggs onto a white china plate and piled the side high with bacon, ham, sausage and every single kind of protein and fat he could find in the kitchen.

"Here Cas," he dropped the plate in front of his friend and took his own seat, looking on expectantly. Castiel stared at the plate a moment and Dean raised an eyebrow, worried.

"You do know how to do this, right?"

Cas rolled his eyes and shoved a whole strip of bacon in his mouth. "Yes Dean, I'm just not sure I can eat all of this." He gestured with his hand to the mountain of eggs and meat before him.

"You don't have to." Dean elaborated then added sympathetically, "You're too thin, just eat as much as you can, slowly, and I'll give the rest to Sam when he wakes up."

Cas nodded and shoved another slice of bacon past his lips, relishing in the greasy savory taste of it and quickly began to devour the rest, not heeding Dean's warning at all.

Dean reached out and snatched the plate away. Cas whimpered at the loss and turned curious blue eyes on Dean.

"Why?" he asked.

"You can't eat it too fast man, what did I _just_ say? You're too damn skinny and if you eat too much too soon you could die!" he fumed, his shoulders tight and face pinched.

Cas looked down and pulled one of his many cooling towels tighter around his shoulders. "I am sorry Dean, I didn't realize."

Dean's expression softened immediately, he shook his head and smiled sadly.

"I'm not trying to be mean Cas, it's just… I worry about you man. Every time you got hurt before I could be confident that you would bounce back, but not this time. Cas you have to be careful about everything you do, 'cause if you don't… I don't wanna lose you." Dean looked up at Cas to finish making his point but it was obvious that wasn't necessary.

Big salty tears poured from Castiel's eyes, he couldn't control it and didn't seem to understand it either. His lips parted slightly, his voice broke as he spoke.

"You… don't want… me to go?"

Dean, taken aback by his friend's tears reached across the table to affectionately dry Cas' eyes with the calloused pads of his thumbs. Castiel leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut and a soft moan escaping his lips. Dean almost retracted his hand but Cas caught this wrist, keeping him near.

"Your hands are cold… it feels nice." Dean swallowed a lump in his throat caused by his best friend making obscene noises while coddling his hand. Not sure why, Dean added his other hand to the mix, cupping Castiel's cheeks and pulling his face forward.

Dean stopped with only a few inches between his and Castiel's lips upon realizing what he was doing.

"How are you feeling?" he breathed, eyes darting back and forth as he gazed into Cas'.

"A bit hot," Castiel gasped for the breath that the momentary excitement had taken from him.

Instead of pressing their lips together Dean rested his forehead gently against Cas'; humming in contemplation before pulling back. "You don't have a fever anymore, you just need to rest." Dean grinned encouragingly at his friend, eliciting the same reaction from his best friend. Dean's heart stopped.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPSPNSPN

Sam had woken early to the sound of a shower running next door in his brother's room.

_Dean and Cas are up._ He thought tiredly as he got up and threw on some clothes, not sure whether or not they were clean or what.

He made his bed quietly and headed for the door, intending to make breakfast for the three of them before something that he hadn't paid attention to in years caught his eye. It was a small foldaway picture frame with two slots that lay closed on top of his dresser next to the door.

Sam sighed, he was sure he'd finished staring at the damn thing a long time ago but recent events had dredged up old memories.

He had to see. Just once.

Sam sauntered over to the frame and took a deep breath as he inspected its closed form. It was a plain black frame, no decoration on the old wood and no other color except the silver hinges and clasps holding the pictures in place.

He smiled softly at the two pictures that were nestled inside. One was a photo of him and Dean of course. Something that he'd found tucked away in Dad's stuff, he'd been eight at the time.

But it was the other photo that he'd really wanted to see. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes as he beheld the wavy golden hair which was always placed just right and the topaz eyes half closed, the edges wrinkled in a grin. Perfectly straight teeth had flecks of what could only be assumed to be chocolate in them. It was a candid shot, secretly taken and secretly kept. For Sam's eyes only.

_Gabriel_.

Sam's eyes spilled over as he stumbled back, the backs of his legs collided with the bed and he tumbled onto his back. The frame held tightly to his chest. He hated this. Anguish reached down his throat and gripped his heart, jerking it violently, this was the reason he stopped looking at the photo. It always had this effect on him.

Sam had never said a word to Gabriel about his sudden and whole attraction to the Archangel. He hadn't told anybody, which is why Dean was so confused about Sam's breakdown after Gabe's death.

His heart lurched again.

That's where his advice to his brother had come from. If Dean didn't tell Cas his feelings and Cas died – Sam had prayed for months for Gabe to be brought back to no avail – his brother would suffer and share in his fate, the constant emptiness and being aware of every weapon in the room lest the pressure become too much and he just had to end it –

Sam's hand darted under his pillow where he kept his pistol and dragged it out, eying it suspiciously for a moment.

His finger rested gingerly on the trigger. It just felt so _good_.

He didn't think. Sam couldn't bring himself to as he took one final look at the joy in Gabriel's expression.

Sam raised the gun and took a deep breath, tossing the frame in the air –

'BANG'

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean's head jerked up immediately at the shot fired deep in the bunker. He leapt from his seat and turned frantically to run but doubled back, placing his hands not so gently on Cas' shoulders.

"Stay here Cas, if there's danger I'll come get you and we'll split!" he glanced at Cecilia; "Stay with him!" the Cherubim saluted and hugged Cas around the neck as if to say 'I've got him.'

Dean sprinted down the halls, taking the appropriate turns which eventually led him to stop in front of Sam's room. His mouth hung open a moment before he shoved his pain and dread aside to raise his leg and kick the door in; somehow knowing that it would be locked.

"Sam?" he croaked.

"It was definitely a gunshot he'd heard which only added to the crippling churn in his stomach. The room was dark but he could easily make out the outline of Sam's large body lying on the bead spread eagle with his legs dangling off the foot and one arm off the side.

As Dean's eyes adjusted to the lack of light he took a shaky step forward but stopped as he caught sight of the shiny black metal hanging just so from Sam's limp hand.

"No," he breathed, Dean rushed forward and leapt onto the bed, his hands finding Sam's face immediately as he lifted his brother to cradle him in his arms. "Sammy, wake up, please…"

His fingers moved of their own accord, feather touches ghosting over Sam's body but he could find no wounds. No place where a bullet would have pierced his flesh.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice still shook, his brother had still not responded.

"I can't take it anymore Dean." Sam's voice came out small and weak as he sat up, removing himself from Dean's embrace before trudging tiredly to the door. He turned the light on and returned to the bed, sitting next to his brother who had not moved an inch, too stunned to process what the Hell had just happened.

Sam rested the gun in his lap, not letting go quite yet.

After a moment of silence Dean snatched the gun from this brother and took the bullets out, shoving them in his pocket.

"What the Hell man?! What were you thinking firing a gun in the bunker, Cas nearly had a heart attack and I… I thought you…"

Sam shook his head and raised a hand, slowly pointing across the room. Dean's gaze followed his finger to a shattered picture frame with a single bullet put expertly through the center.

Dean crossed the room and picked it up as his brother flopped back on the bed.

Dean raised an eyebrow when he opened the tattered frame.

"Gabriel?" he turned and shook his head sympathetically. "Dude, why didn't you tell me?"

"You hate him… hated him."

Dean frowned, "And you honestly thought I'd get in the way of your happiness just because I didn't like the guy?"

Sam shook his head, "I didn't know what to think Dean, this guy had just tried to kill us and kept doing so, it was a long time ago, I was scared, I loved him… I just couldn't say it."

Dean pocketed the frame, intending to fix it up later and rejoined his brother on the bed.

"That's where your speech about me and Cas came from." He deduced.

"I don't want you to feel this way Dean. It… I-I don't know how long I've thought of… of offing myself and maybe Heaven would give him back to me, but I couldn't do that to you…"

Sam's hands flew to his face to keep his brother from seeing his tears. He gasped when his brother pulled him into hug, not expecting it; this was just something Dean didn't do.

"I'm so sorry Sam, I know it's bad but you should have told me then maybe he wouldn't… you know." A whole new round of tear fueled convulsions ripped through Sam and Dean realized he wasn't helping.

He smiled and pushed Sam back so he was at arm's length, Dean's hands keeping his shoulders steady.

"I'll pray too Sammy, between the two of us there's gotta be someone up there listening."

A small smile broke the line of Sam's frown and he nodded.

"Good." Dean patted the side of his brother's face affectionately, "Have you eaten?" Sam shook his head and Dean led his brother out and to the front room.

"Dean?" the elder Winchester rushed forward as he and his brother rounded the corner to the front room to see Cas laying on the floor two paces from his chair and Cecilia trying to pull him up by his hair to no avail.

"What happened?" Sam asked as Dean gingerly removed Cas from the floor and carried him to the much more comfortable couch before darting off to find the man some clean clothes.

Castiel winced as Dean knelt in front of him and wriggled a shirt over his head as he pointed to the counter.

"I wanted to help." Dean and Sam both followed his gaze to the pistol lying on the counter.

"Oh _Hell_ no!" Dean growled, commanding his friend's and his brother's attention. He jabbed a finger in Cas' face. "You are a civilian now 'ya hear? No guns, no fighting, no _nothing_, you will sit your ass on this couch and watch TV and get fat on Ben&Jerry's –"

"Dean," Sam interrupted, "You can't just lock him up."

"Shut the fuck up Sam, you're lucky I don't put you on lockdown too!" he turned his attention back to Cas, trying to ignore the tears welling in the other man's eyes.

"I don't understand why you are angry with me Dean." Castiel, still unable to control the waterworks wiped helplessly at his eyes.

Dean sighed and rested his hand on Cas' knee. "I can't see you get hurt like that again Cas, it might kill me, and with this whole Prophet thing hanging over my head maybe I'm overreacting but Cas… Castiel…" the ex-Angel cocked his head to the side; Dean hardly ever used his full name. "I will protect you forever, damnit I'll follow you to the ends of the damn earth if I have to, you're family man, and our family's gotten small enough as it is."

Dean could feel Sam's gaze on his back, _He wants me to say it_. Dean clenched his jaw and ignored his brother.

"Do you understand me Castiel?"

Cas nodded, an overjoyed expression on his face as he, without warning, flew forward, placing a quick peck on Dean's lips, leaving the hunter blissfully stunned.

"Okay Dean."


	7. Runner Runner

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's Note: ** Yay! I feel loved, thank you for the wonderful reviews, I will keep doing my best!

**Chapter six:** Runner Runner

Dean sat quietly at the kitchen table dragging a damp cloth along the barrel of his gun, hardly paying attention to what he was doing because Cas was on a cleaning rampage, and that was just something that couldn't be missed.

He'd made a joke last week that cleaning required an apron but hadn't actually expected Cas to hunt one down and wear it. The man was at the top of a step stool, wiping along the tops of bookshelves, pointedly making sure that no dust remained.

Dean frowned suddenly. He had been waiting to ask Cas about that night at the hospital when he had thought that the man he loved – yes loved – was going to die. Dean shuddered at the memory and returned his attention to Castiel. He would ask today, after the ex-Angel finished his task.

Cas looked good. Many of his bruises had faded or were starting to and he smiled often having taken well to becoming a domestic. Perhaps there was still a bit of Grace in him considering how fast he healed.

Castiel climbed down from his ladder and dragged the back of his arm across his forehead. He took a step back to look at his work before nodding and crossing the room, taking his seat next to Dean.

"I have finished today's chores Dean."

Dean smiled, "Great, how you feeling?" the question had become a staple of everyday conversation for the two.

Castiel grinned and leaned his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. "I feel wonderful Dean, who knew that being human could cause me to find joy in such menial tasks?"

Dean chuckled; "Yea, humanity'll do that to ya." he went back to his gun but peered from beneath his eyelashes at Cas who was poking at Cecilia as she tried to dodge his probing finger. It was a heartwarming sight that, unfortunately, Dean had to ruin.

"So Cas, you wanna tell me what happened that night?"

Castiel immediately froze up halfway through poking Cecilia's cheeks. He didn't look at Dean but gazed purposefully at the table.

"I don't remember Dean."

"You sure?"

Cas nodded and fidgeted with the scars on his fingers. Dean had recently let him take the bandages off his hands.

Dean took Cas' wrists in his hands to get Cas to stop messing with his healing wounds.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I really don't remember Dean. I just remember thinking I was going to die, it was so painful. Then I fell and I hit the ground and I knew I was broken, I don't know how I found the main road or how I even had the energy to stand. I knew that I had to find you and Sam. That's all."

"You don't remember who… or why your Grace?..."

Castiel brushed his fingers against the slightly visible scar stretching across his throat and shook his head. "I hit the ground very hard Dean, I am not surprised that I do not remember."

Dean nodded and looked down, "Sorry I made you go through that again."

"It's okay, you needed to know." Cas looked up at the same time Dean did and their eyes locked. Green met blue and, though he was human, Dean still felt sure that the man could read his soul like an open book.

"Cas –" Dean was cut off as the front door slammed open and Sam strode in, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Looks like someone had fun." Dean smirked; his brother was covered head to toe in blood, none of it his own.

"Yea, well while you were here babysitting I found this."

Sam reached into his backpack and pulled out a small-ish slab of stone with unreadable words marring the surface.

Dean stood suddenly, banging his leg on the table.

"The tablet?! Where the Hell did you find that?!"

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and strode forward, setting it on the table

"Dude, chill, I found it in the prison after I flushed the demons out. They had all kinds of valuable shit in there, I think I saw the Ark of the Covenant but it was too big to carry." He joked.

Dean picked the tablet up off the table and peered at it a moment before throwing it down with a huff and a frown, "I don't know if I'm doing it wrong or something but I can't read it. Damn thing's useless now."

Castiel quirked an eyebrow and picked up the tablet before looking at the two brothers, confused.

"If this is here, where is Kevin?"

Both brothers looked away from their friend, not wanting to admit the truth but knowing it to be absolutely relevant information. It was Dean who spoke.

"Kevin was killed around the time I became a Prophet."

"How?" Castiel's frown deepened, "I was under the impression that this place was warded against everything." He looked nervous a moment, whatever had killed Kevin could get back in. He shivered.

Dean shot his brother an indescribable look and Sam sighed, "C'mon Cas, I'll show you."

Cas rose and followed Sam down the hall after asking why Dean was not following and not receiving an answer.

Cas' jaw dropped and he closed his eyes a moment in silent prayer as he surveyed the sight before him. The Winchesters had not been able to bring themselves to clean out Kevin's room yet so everything was the same except the smell. That was worse.

Sam raised an eyebrow, curious at Cas' sudden change in behavior.

"What is it?" Castiel actually seemed to be shaking as his eyes shifted uneasily and he glanced behind himself half expecting to come face to face with his death.

"You didn't Angel proof." It wasn't a question.

"No, of course not." Sam crossed his arms over his chest in frustration, "We wanted to be sure you could get in without trouble – Cas what's going on?"

Castiel pulled Kevin's door shut and dashed back to the front room, dragging Sam behind him. He darted past Dean's questioning stare to the kitchen where he grabbed up a sharpie and began to scribble on the walls in what could only be assumed to be Enochian.

"What are you doing?" Dean rose from his seat and shot a look at Sam who reciprocated with a simple shrug. Dean flinched but caught the marker that Cas threw at him.

"We must ward this place against Angels immediately; it will come back for the new Prophet as soon as they find out that it is you Dean!"

Sam joined Cas but Dean stayed where he was, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Why would we be warding against Angels, the thing that killed Kevin was –"

"An Angel Dean!" Cas continued to scribble every warding symbol he could possibly remember on the wall and throwing Dean a look of sheer terror, "They're merciless Dean, and will not bat an eye at killing the rest of us to get to you! The creature that killed Kevin was a Rit Zien." He re-capped the marker, "A special faction of Heavenly Host whose sole function is assassinating mortally wounded Angels on the field of battle." Castiel approached Dean and placed an hand on his forehead the way he used to when he could expel demons, "There is no escaping them once they have your name," he pushed his hand down, effectively seating Dean in his chair, "and when they do…" both his arms swung out to his sides to illustrate his point while he mouthed 'Boom.'

"You're afraid of them?" Dean asked in disbelief, all these years around Castiel and he had never seen him truly afraid.

Castiel collapsed into the next chair, bringing a tired hand to his face. "I do not know of a single warrior who does not fear them, for their power is beyond imagination and no matter how much one may beg or plead… duty is duty, to them at least."

Sam picked up the Angel tablet from the table and frowned.

"But why would Angels be killing off their own Prophets?"

"And if it was an Angel that killed Kevin then why did demons have the tablet when Sam found it?" Dean probed.

"That certainly is the question to ask isn't it?" Castiel kneaded his temples softly; a headache stunting his ability to think, "Unfortunately I do not remember much of my last excursion in Heaven, certainly nothing pertaining to the assassination of Prophets…"

Castiel shook his head and reached across the table to grab the collar of Dean's shirt and pulled it down, revealing his anti-possession tattoo.

"Whatever the reason, I will be needing one of those, and you two will need to be warded against Angels."

Dean raised an eyebrow at Cas and chuckled, "I dunno Cas, aren't you a bit delicate for tattoo's?"

Cas shrugged, "How bad could it be?"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Castiel ground his teeth together and took a sharp intake of breath all at once as he struggled to not squirm away from the needle repeatedly piercing the sensitive skin of his abdomen. His hand shot out to grasp at the closest object he could find: Dean's arm, where his fresh tattoo was quietly smoldering.

"Cas!" he exclaimed as he removed the terrified man's hand from his wound. "'How bad could it be?' Seriously, you gotta be careful about saying stuff like that around us."

Cas twitched involuntarily, causing the artist to stab him in the wrong spot and more pain to cause Castiel to squirm further.

The heavily tattooed ginger concentrating over Cas' stomach shot a heavy glare at Dean. The older Winchester shrugged and gave her a winning smile.

"His first ink, sorry, the guy never had much in the way of pain tolerance." Dean patted Cas on the shoulder and left to check on Sam who was taking the situation a lot better than Cas. Dean took a seat next to his brother and tapped the artist on the shoulder, gaining his irritated attention.

Dean motioned to his ears with one hand. The artist grunted and put his headphones on, allowing the brothers some privacy.

"So, how ya feeling?" Dean asked with a grin.

Sam shrugged, "Better I guess, feeling like death isn't really an option right now, prayed last night and didn't feel like no one was listening so… that's good?"

Dean nodded and scratched the back of his neck nervously. He was never really good at this emotional shit.

"You can talk to me Sam; if you're hurting you know I can help you right? Or at least try." Sam smiled appreciatively as the artist finished his work and signaled to the younger man that he was good to go.

"Yea, well, having something to do always helps –"

A blood curdling scream erupted from the other room prompting the brothers to fly to Cas' aid. He was not hurt really but had nicked one of his flailing arms on the edge of a table and the kind tattoo artist had simply poured rubbing alcohol over it. Other than that he was fine.

Dean slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his impromptu laughter. Cas reached towards the brothers, tears of pain welling in his eyes.

"Help!" he whined.

Sam, being the more sympathetic brother, helped the now tattooed and warded Cas out of the chair and to the Impala while Dean paid.

"Sam," Cas began as Sam helped him lower himself into the backseat, "I want you to know that if my presence ever becomes a danger to you or your brother I would not be offended if you asked me to leave," he gestured to himself sadly, "seeing as how I am now useless as the average human."

Sam frowned and glanced over his shoulder to see Dean just making his way over, a stupid grin on his face.

"The Angels may still be able to sense the remnants of my Grace so –"

"Don't," Sam snapped suddenly, "what part of 'you're family' do you not understand Cas? If Dean ever heard you talk like that he'd have a fit."

"Not even for your own safety?"

"No." Sam smiled sadly, "Honestly Cas, Dean would be better off with you around, trust me."

The ex-Angel frowned and nestled further into the back seat of the Impala as Dean stepped in and started the car.

"Alright! Where to now?" he asked jovially, "I saw this bar on Main Street with an advertisement for the world's greatest pie in the window, I think we –"

Cas tuned out after that. It was odd, when he was an Angel he could think about so many things at once but now it was just one. He could either choose to listen to Dean ramble on about his favorite breakfast lunch and dinner food or he could not. Castiel honestly enjoyed listening to Dean, and looking at him… and touching him.

He felt a blush rise of his cheeks and he turned his head to look out the window in hopes of keeping the brothers from noticing. He didn't know how to get it through their thick skulls that life without him would be so much safer.

Cas closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool window.

_I will have to take matters into my own hands then._

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

10:00 p.m.

Dean slept soundly on the couch when Cas came tip-toeing out of his room. Sam had gone to bed some time before so no reason to worry there.

He had a bit of money in his pocket and a protein bar. Cas had expected to just get out and run, to get as far away as he could. If the Rit Zein found him on the other side of the country _then_ he would have gotten far enough away from Sam and Dean.

Dean…

Cas found himself standing rigidly by the arm of the couch on which Dean's head rested, he stooped down, stopping a mere few inches from Dean's lips.

"I am so sorry Dean. Please understand that this is for your own good…"

Cas gently placed his hands on either side of his best friend's face, relishing in the gruff scrape of stubble beneath his fingers as he brought their lips together.

The kiss was quick, soft, and packed away with all of Castiel's love. If only Dean knew, these feelings welling deep within him threatened to burst out. He longed to throw himself across Dean's body and cry and beg forgiveness for what he was about to do and have Dean kiss him and tell him that everything would be okay.

But he just couldn't.

Cas' heart sank to his churning stomach as he stood and forced one foot in front of the other until he reached the garage.

He secured a helmet on his head and climbed atop one of the many motorbikes littering the space.

He kept his stare forward and clenched his jaw.

Then he drove.


	8. A House Divided

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry for the delay; I was having some computer problems and couldn't update ahhhhhhh! Anyway, back to work… please enjoy!

**Chapter seven:** A House Divided

"Are you sure Sam? Please tell me you're not sure!"

"Dude, I told you, he's gone! I checked every room, torture chamber, storage closet, and crack in the wall in this place!" Sam screeched on the other line.

Dean winced as the harsh sound of his brother's voice bounced around in his head and snapped the phone shut. He returned his attention to the road in front of him for one moment before punching Cas' number into the cell for the thirteenth time since he'd gotten in the car.

Nothing.

"Damnit!" Dean threw the phone into the back seat. His hands gripped the wheel of the Impala tightly as his eyes scanned the sides of the road. No trench coat, no mussed hair, no blue eyes, no nothing.

Castiel was gone. That morning when he had gone to wake his friend for his turn in the shower there was no sign of the guy.

Dean shrugged off his unease and licked his lips, it was odd, that morning his mouth was all tingly and he had no clue why. He grunted and pulled over. Dean leaned over the seat and fished around for his phone again before punching another number.

"Charlie!" Dean could nearly hear the girl flinch as he screamed at her through the phone. As soon as he found out that Cas was missing he had employed her to track his cell wherever it went.

"Dean you just called me!"

Dean wiped a hand down his face, "Am I still going the right way Charlie? Are you sure he didn't ditch his phone?"

"Dean," she said softly, understanding in her voice, "there's no way I could know that, but he took a motorbike right? He couldn't have gotten too far."

"Thanks Charlie," Dean sighed and shut the phone again before finally looking up at the road to see that an obviously inebriated figure had wandered into his path. Dean jerked the wheel, "Shit!" and the Impala careened off the road into the ditch and collided with a tree.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Cas didn't know where he was or where he left his bike. His keys were gone as was his helmet and somehow his shirt had flown the coop as well. His feet stumbled over one another and he scratched absently at his healing tattoo.

Castiel frowned and looked down at his buzzing pocket a moment before remembering that he still had his phone. He dug his hand into his pants pocket and dug out the device.

"Somebody… is calling me," Cas slurred, veering to the left and his bare feet hit asphalt. His shoes had gone too, Castiel frowned at this, he really liked his shoes. Then he remembered that someone was calling him. He peered at the caller ID, 'Dean Winchester.'

"Damnit!" he threw his phone as hard as he could and grinned when he heard it shatter against something a few meters away. "Just stay away from... me Dean!" he said to the empty space around him, "I hate you and your house smells like a dead guy and you – I don't like me when you're around… I feel so… weird?" he patted his chest and abdomen with his hands. Fascinated a moment with how sensitive the human body was.

He stumbled forward a few steps more and looked up when a harsh light hit his eyes and he dove to the side out of the way. The vehicle that damn near hit him veered to the side and ran down a ditch, colliding with a tree.

Cas stared after it for a while with a confused look on his face. He stumbled quickly across the road and down the ditch to see if the driver was alright. He made it half way down the embankment before he passed out.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean groaned with the pain in his whole body waking at the same time as he and pushed the hair on his forehead up and away from the free flowing particularly nasty gash on his head. It was still night so he couldn't have been out long. He ripped his seatbelt off and tried to not look at the sorry state of his car. The whole front end was crunched, the windshield and front windows were shattered and Dean had smacked his head hard on the steering wheel.

_Hard enough to cut my head open apparently_, his hand found the door handle and he stumbled out into the cool night.

"Hey," he barked, there was a humanoid figure lying motionless on the other side of the Impala at the bottom of the ditch.

Dean scrambled to his knees next to the guy, shaking his shoulder and could immediately smell the reek of alcohol wafting off of him.

"Hey, you alive?" when he received no response he pushed the guy over so he was laying on his back. Dean's breath caught in his throat.

"Cas?" he immediately pressed his ear to his friend's chest and was relieved when he heard that his heart was indeed still beating and at a rapid pace now. Cas coughed above him and sat up on his elbows.

"I am not accustomed to the nature of this new greeting Dean." Dean frowned at his friend.

Did Cas just try to make a joke?

Dean had the sudden urge to slap Castiel but opted for hugging him instead, pulling Cas' half naked body into his own bloody one. He didn't care if it was Cas who started this mess or caused him to wreck his car or was so fucking drunk right now that he couldn't even acknowledge his mistakes. Cas was safe. Dean bit his cheek hard hoping that the distraction of pain would keep him from crying.

He then helped Cas to his feet.

"C'mon," he grunted, shoving Cas into the back seat of the broken car and fishing his intact phone from beneath the mess on the floor, "I'll have Sam come pick us up and then we'll go home okay?"

Castiel shook his head and took Dean's phone from him, snapping it in half.

"What the Hell man?!" Dean yelled, "How the Hell're we gonna get home?!"

"I don't wanna go home Dean." Castiel said soberly, "I-I'm leading the Angels away, they were… following me. They'll be here soon."

"But you were warded…" Castiel motioned to his stomach where Dean could see the fresh burn marks that covered where his Enochian warding seal once was.

Dean's eyes widened exponentially, Castiel meant to die tonight while protecting Dean; he had gotten hammered to keep from talking himself into going home before the Angels got to him.

"Damnit!" Dean swore before bowing his head and clasping his hands together, "This goes out to any Angel who isn't out for my head on a pike, this is Dean Winchester, look, I know we haven't seen eye to eye in the past but I need your help. Cas is in trouble, I'm in trouble and whoever gets their ass down here and helps me out is gonna be in my good graces for a while and that ain't nothin' –"

Dean's hurried prayer was cut short when his collar was yanked from behind, choking him. He was dragged from the side of the car and tossed to the ground.

"If it isn't the newest Prophet of the Lord, Dean Winchester, it is _so nice_ to finally meet you."

Dean scrambled back and to his feet once met with the three Angels that now towered over him. There were two men and a woman though it was abundantly clear to Dean that the one who'd spoken, the blond in the middle, was the ring leader. The one who would order his execution.

"You're here to k-kill me." Dean stated trying to sound tough but a small break in his voice betrayed him as he peeked past the threat to check on Cas. If he killed Dean it was fine but if they planned to hurt Cas he wasn't going down without a bloody, hopefully fatal, fight.

"Sort of," the blond Angel smiled, "First thing's first… where did you put the book Dean?"

"Sorry," Dean was suddenly very glad that he had left Cecilia home with Sam, "I have a policy not to give information to rats with wings."

The blond Angel frowned, "Well that's too bad Dean, you know, if you had just told me I may have spared my brother his life." He snapped his fingers and another blond Angel appeared, he was shorted and scruffier looking as he wrenched the still slightly hung over Castiel out of the wrecked car and pressed him up against the cool metal.

"NO!" Dean bellowed as the Angel pressed his palm to Cas' forehead.

"I suppose you are familiar with this particular Rit Zein considering that he killed you predecessor, Kevin was it?"

Dean darted forward as the Rit Zein pumped Angelic power into Castiel's body, causing his eyes and mouth to glow. The two Angels who had not yet spoken grabbed Dean's arms, keeping him in place as a horrible shriek ripped from Castiel's throat.

Dean turned his face away, tears staining his cheeks. After all his efforts to protect Cas, to keep him safe, he had to go out like this? Dean had always had this picture in his mind of Cas sitting, gray haired, in a rocking chair in his eighties ever since the Angel had become human. Now that would never happen. Dean waited for the inevitable explosion that would end his friend but it did not come.

The Angels holding Dean still dropped him suddenly, he returned his gaze to Cas on the other side of his car in confusion.

The Rit Zein had stopped and dropped its eyes to look at the shiny metal tip of an Angel blade protruding from its chest. The Rit Zein screamed as its insides fried and the light of its Grace dying shone from every orifice.

Castiel and the body dropped to the ground to reveal yet another Angel, his strong jaw was set as he yanked his blade from the back of his dead brother and rolled his shoulders, pure determination and sadness in his eyes.

Suddenly it was not near Cas but in between Dean and the three that wanted him dead. Dean took the chance to scramble over to Cas, taking the unconscious man's face in his hands, making sure that he was still alive. He was.

"D… ean," Castiel croaked, his hands gripped Dean's wrists, making sure that what he was seeing was real, "am I dead?"

Dean pulled his friend into a tight hug, "You're fine Cas, it's going to be alright."

"This is not Heaven's intention brother; our Father could not have ordered the death of those He appointed for the task of delivering His word."

Dean peeked around the car to see his savior standing alone against his brothers and sister.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I do not recognize you brother, my name is Bartholomew, and yours is?.."

"It is not important," Dean's savior shifted his weight, preparing for a fight, "what is important is that Prophet that the Archangels once protected with their lives, Bartholomew, if you do not leave then be I am afraid that I must kill you."

Bartholomew and his cronies laughed, "Brother, surely you must be joking, there are three of us and one of you, how about you hand over that Prophet and we let you and Castiel keep you lives?"

Suddenly the nameless Angel was behind Bartholomew's posse, the two on either side of him were killed quickly. He very nearly stabbed Bartholomew as well but was kept from doing so by Dean shouting.

"Hey you junkless freaks!" whilst the two brothers bickered had Dean painted a banishing sigil on the door of his car and brought his hand down on it, close to sending away the Angels but was halted by the nameless Angel flinging him back.

"My apologies Prophet," he said, "but I cannot allow you to send me back to Heaven –" he cried out suddenly as Bartholomew's own blade sliced into his side. The un-named Angel flew immediately to Dean and Castiel, recognizing that this was not a fight that he was prepared to win and place two fingers to each of their foreheads. Then they flew, leaving Bartholomew alone.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean and Castiel hit the ground hard, though both were now completely healed of their wounds, as the un-named Angel had been forced to crash land due to his injury.

Dean scrambled to Castiel to check him over for wounds. Cas rolled his eyes.

"I am not injured Dean."

"'Course not," Dean growled as he draped his jacket across Cas' bare shoulders, "because you weren't shit faced drunk or almost hit by a car or nearly blown up by a crazy Angel tonight."

"If I may interrupt," Dean turned his attention to the un-named Angel that had saved his life. He had since healed himself. "I must impose upon you so much as to ask where it is that is the safest place for you Prophet. Bartholomew will not stop until you and ever Prophet chosen outside of the list by the Word has been killed."

"How did you find us?" Dean asked, completely ignoring the Angel.

"I heard your prayer, now, where?"

"Why are you helping me?" Dean could have sworn that the Angel glanced at Castiel.

"I promised a friend."

"That means you don't want me dead." Dean probed. The Angel nodded.

"There are those of us who do not agree with Bartholomew and his organization. I believe that the Will of God is not a road bathed in blood but a paved in forgiveness." He turned to Castiel, "It is good to see you are well brother."

Castiel frowned, "Forgive me brother but I do not recognize you. I thought I had seen every Angel in heaven but your face is new to me."

"Ah, you do not remember, it is to be expected, you fell hard brother."

Dean looked back and forth between the two as they spoke, growing more irritated with each word exchanged.

"Am I missing something here?" he growled.

"All in due time Prophet, but now," he glanced over his shoulder at the sound of wings in the distance, "Where shall I take you?"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

The unknown Angel observed the main room of the bunker around him curiously as Cas watched him uneasily and Sam and Dean spoke.

"So you just brought him home?" Sam hissed, "he could have lied to you, you know, he might want to kill you!"

"Then he wouldn't have heard my prayer Sam, that's not how it works and besides, if he wanted me dead he could have done it fifty times by now." Dean frowned at Sam's disapproval.

"He is mysterious," Cas said, "though he is definitely an Angel I have never seen his face before now. We should question him."

Dean began to agree but was cut off by a soft kick coming from the book that was now in his pocket. He brought it out and opened it, letting Cecilia free. She immediately flew to the un-named Angel and stopped in front of his face.

He smiled widely, "Why hello sister! It has been quite some time since I have laid eyes on your lovely visage."

Cecilia slapped his face gently and blushed as if to say, 'oh stop it you.'

Dean's eyes widened and Sam laughed, "Well, now we know he's good people if Cecilia likes him."

Castiel frowned, "If he has seen the Cherubim… either he was involved during the time of Samuel or he has not been seen since the beginning of time…"

"So we talk to him, find out what he knows." Dean shrugged, "Hey, Angel!" both the nameless Angel and Cecilia answered, "C'mon take a seat."

The nameless Angel obeyed.

"So," Dean rested his elbows on the table and laced his fingers in front of his mouth, "What's your story?"

The Angel visibly stiffened and shifted in his seat, "I was a favored warrior of the Lord when the universe was new. My Father gave me many tasks of importance and tasked me with standing guard over man in the garden…" he set his jaw, "I made the mistake of trusting one of my brothers, he corrupted the humans and I was blamed."

"Holy shit." Sam breathed, not believing what he was hearing.

"You can't be serious, _the_ garden? Like the forbidden fruit and fig leaves garden?" Dean asked.

"Eden, yes." The Angel looked down at Cecilia who sat in front of him, "This little one is my only sibling who believed that it wasn't my fau –"

Castiel suddenly stood and slammed his hand on the table. He lurched forward, grabbing his brother's collar and slamming his fist into the old Angel's face. Dean leapt up as well and grabbed Cas' arms, restraining him.

"What the Hell Cas?!"

"It is alright Prophet; he just needs to get it out of his system. This is a reaction that many have when meeting me." The old Angel wiped a drop of blood from his lips.

Castiel shrugged Dean off and turned an angry glare to his estranged brother.

"How dare you show your face here Gadreel? You should know that it is my duty as a warrior of the Lord to kill you for your crimes."

"Yes brother, I realize that."

Castiel fumed at Gadreel's laid back attitude, "How are you even here? You broke the universe you son of a bitch, I thought you had been killed but if not that you should be so deep in the ass-crack of Heaven's lock up that you'd never see the light of day again."

Gadreel simply shrugged, "I escaped, it was not easy but not impossible, you did it too after all."

Shock painted Castiel's face as well as that of Dean and Sam.

"I was… in prison?" Castiel asked, his voice hushed in horror.

"Yes," Gadreel affirmed sympathetically, "since you cannot remember I will tell you. Once you started asking questions in Heaven about your Prophet," he nodded towards Dean, "Bartholomew branded you a traitor and had you thrown into the 'deepest pit of the ass-crack of Heaven's lock up,' my cell specifically. I cannot say that we became friends quickly but you confided in me and I in you. You asked me to protect your Prophet if you were unable. They tortured you often and when you could handle it no more you –"

"I carved out my own Grace…" Castiel interrupted, the memories washing over him in painful waves. His shoulders slumped.

Gadreel nodded, "You said that you needed to return to Earth, to protect your Dean."

Dean's head snapped to the side, furious at Cas for hurting himself so, "You carved your own Grace out?! How is that even possible?"

"It is very painful Prophet," Gadreel answered instead of Cas who was still coming to terms with what he'd done. "So painful, in fact, that I, who had been imprisoned in that place since the beginning of time, could not bring myself to attempt it even for the promise of freedom."

"But why?" Sam asked, "What could you have possibly learned in Heaven that would cause you to do that to yourself?"

"I was told Bartholomew's plan and was asked to help," Cas whispered, "I refused."

"What was the plan Cas?" Dean demanded.

"To take every soul to Heaven."


	9. Long Live the King

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's note:** I am a huge Crowley fan, seeing as how Mark Sheppard is cute as a frickin' button, so I hope he kicks Abbadon's ass in the show and gets Hell back. Long live the king!

**Chapter eight:** Long Live the King

"I'm assuming you don't mean evangelism?" Sam asked, still not quite understanding why having every soul go to Heaven was a bad thing. He had been to Hell as had his brother. It was _not_ a nice place by any means but seeing as how all the (ex) Angels in the room looked so grave and serious Sam could figure that at least, yes, this was a bad thing.

"No Sam, Bartholomew's organization was formed by a group of Angels who are tired of fighting. They tire of Prophets and monsters and demons and protecting this world." Castiel scooted closer to Dean in search of comfort. Dean grabbed up Cas' hand under the table immediately.

"They plan to storm Earth once they've got the majority of Angels on their side and take the souls by force."

"They wanna kill everyone…" Dean breathed, "What the Hell?"

"Yes," Gadreel added, "Our brothers are misguided; they believe that by cleaning this planet of every soul they can rest. But our brothers have not taken into account how horrible our existence would be without purpose."

Gadreel looked down sadly, "This is why Bartholomew has taken to killing Prophets."

"No, that doesn't explain a thing." Sam said, "Why should they want to kill Dean?"

Gadreel raised an eyebrow at Sam who shied away from the old Angel's gaze ever-so-slightly.

"Because your brother and any other Prophet chosen outside the list that every Angel knows is the key to stopping Bartholomew." Gadreel picked up Cecilia, "This little one knows the formula to seal the Angels in Heaven and you, Dean Winchester, are the only person on, above, or below the Earth who can speak to her."

"Close the gates of Heaven?" Dean was dumbfounded, happy, but dumbfounded. He could finally send all those _halos_ back where they belonged and they could just leave him the Hell alone!

Dean grinned across the table at Cecilia and Gadreel and leaned forward.

"When do we start?"

"Not quite yet boys." The whole room turned in their seats, immediately reaching for Angel blades and guns as Crowley stood across the room, hands in his pockets, grin on his face.

"Hallo moose, squirrel, various sexy Angel folk."

Dean stood and moved to stand protectively in front of Sam and Castiel.

"How the Hell did you get in here?!" he bellowed.

The King of Hell shrugged and moved forward to calmly take a seat next to Gadreel and Cecilia.

"Pish-posh, I wouldn't be a king worth my salt if I couldn't do _this_ much now would I moose?" he turned to Gadreel and extended a hand and a smile.

"Gadreel, the Angel who let my daddy into Eden, big fan." Gadreel refused to look at the demon or acknowledge his presence; Crowley retracted his hand and turned back to Sam Dean and Castiel who all had their weapons at the ready. "Well then, all business as usual I suppose?"

Sam frowned, "What do you want Crowley?"

"Truth is, I've been hearing about your little conundrum through the grapevine and thought you might like to know why my treasury had your oh so rare Angel tablet." Crowley nodded towards Cecilia, she stuck her tongue out at him, "and for a time this little truffle as well."

"Why should we believe you?" Castiel growled, his grip on his blade tightened when Crowley leaned across the table.

"Believe it or not," he said, throwing sideways glances at Sam and Dean, "I am on your side Castiel."

"Unlikely." Gadreel snapped, allowing himself one glance at the supernatural being he detested before resuming his statuesque façade.

"Of course," Crowley rolled his eyes, "Because I would love for the Angels to take away every human soul and lock them up where I can't get to them. I am assisting you to protect my own interests, but help is help."

He turned up his hands, "Do you want to know or do you not?"

"We wanna know." Dean laid his gun on the table and Sam followed suit.

"Attaboy moose, remind me to give you a cookie later," Crowley grinned, "As it turns out Angels can play the dirty cop when it suits them just as well as the rest of us. Your little brother Bartholomew had been making deals with Azazel for years to hide his spoils from Heaven. And when his Rit Zein offed Kevin he had the tablet hidden there as well."

"Now if you were to make it abundantly clear to Barty's boss that he was being a bad baby…"

"Bartholomew has no boss." Castiel interrupted, "At the moment he is the leader of Heaven."

"Oh Castiel," Crowly cooed, clicking his tongue, "_Everybody_ has a boss. All you've got to do is find his office."

"Are you suggesting that we tell on Bartholomew to _God_?" Dean asked in disbelief, "Why the fuck would He listen to us? He never has before."

"Oh my Satan," Crowley slapped his forehead in irritation, "Have you any idea how ironic it is for me to understand this rather than you meatheads? God hasn't been ignoring you, if anything He's been hanging on every word coming out of your sniveling mouths. Can you even imagine how many times you would have died had he not flipped a switch to help you out? God doesn't ignore his favorites boys, you just need to know how to ask correctly." And with that Crowley was gone.

Dean blinked at the King of Hell's sudden disappearance, stunned. "You think we can trust him?"

"I don't think we have a choice Dean." Sam frowned and shook his head. "No one else is stepping up to the plate and there are no manuals about this sort of thing."

Castiel pouted, "I do not like this idea."

"Of course you don't," Dean sighed, "but unless you want to go back up to Heaven we have no other leads." Castiel and Gadreel visibly stiffened at the suggestion. "Right."

Dean stood and glanced at his watch then at Gadreel. "Well, I guess you're staying then." He jabbed a thumb towards his brother, "You'll be staying with Sam."

"What? Why?" Sam complained.

"Because Cas' _and _Cecilia already staying with me and that guy needs someone to keep an eye on him and keep him from wandering around." Dean took Cas by the arm and Cecilia's book in his hand and started towards the hall, calling over his shoulder, "Don't forget to pray to God Sammy, g'night!"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam stood awkwardly at his bedside with Gadreel.

"Do you sleep?"

"No."

"Oh." Sam mentally punched himself. Great, now he was going to be 'watched over' by Heaven's most wanted while he slept.

"Samuel?" Gadreel asked.

"Sam."

"Sam," Sam could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile tug at the corners of the Angel's mouth. "what is it like? Being human?"

Sam was somewhat taken aback by the question. He sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him, guiding Gadreel to do the same.

"It's difficult. Humans have to deal with a lot of distractions that Angels don't have to like eating and using the bathroom." Sam paused momentarily and looked up to see Gadreel looking on expectantly, "But there are nice things too, like sugar and a sense of accomplishment when you do something right… and love."

Sam stopped again, noticing that Gadreel had leaned in close so that there was less than a foot between them. A blush rose on Sam's cheeks, this sort of thing had not happened to him since the last time he'd seen Gabriel.

Sam's mood darkened at the thought of his past love only to be lightened again upon feeling the light puff of Gadreel's breath on his face.

"Angels are capable of all of these things… do you suppose that I could sleep if I made an effort?"

"Y-yes?" Sam breathed.

Gadreel smiled marginally and crawled past Sam to the other side of the bed where he lay on his back, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling.

Sam shook his head, "No dude, that's all wrong. One, you don't sleep with your clothes on; two, you get _under_ the sheets; and three, you gotta relax man."

Gadreel nodded once, got up, and began to strip, each article of clothing folded neatly and stacked on the closer of Sam's two nightstands. Sam threw his hands in front of his face when Gadreel gripped the waistband of his boxers.

"Underwear on!" Sam cried.

"But you said –" Gadreel began.

"Forget what I said," Sam chocked on another blush brought on by the man's toned body and smooth quiet voice, "house rules, all parties must sleep in their underwear."

Gadreel nodded again and crawled beneath the covers as Sam undressed and followed suit. The old Angel rolled to his stomach and turned his head to look at Sam as he turned off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness.

"Sam." Gadreel paused a moment as though he were embarrassed, "How do I sleep?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Close your eyes," Gadreel obeyed, "now relax every muscle in your body starting with the top of your head all the way to your toes."

Gadreel groaned as he let his stiff vessel relax into the mattress and yawned as tiredness began to overtake him.

"Thank you Sam," he said as his eyes drooped. "I will pray for you to my Father as I sleep." Then he was out.

Sam rolled onto his side, trying to not be pulled into the old Angel's strange gravitational pull.

"Yea man," he mumbled as sleep claimed him as well, "no problem."


	10. What Would Samuel Do?

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's note:** Well damn, my brain took a huge shat and this came out so… have fun with that.

Chapter nine: WWSD?

Dean woke early to a tingling sensation running across his skin as Cecilia finished her nightly speech. He grinned at the Cherubim that sat perched on his tattoo and made a move to sit up. He had been getting the best sort of sleep ever since Cecilia had begun talking to him and was not looking forward to the day when that pleasure would be taken from him.

He stopped moving a moment and tugged on his arm which was effectively pinned beneath a sleeping Castiel. For a moment Dean was shocked at the serine look on his best friend's face. He would never get use to waking up next to him.

Dean was suddenly ripped from his morning bliss; he raised an eyebrow suddenly and gave Cecilia a questioning look, remembering bits and pieces of last night's one-sided conversation. "Really?"

The Cherubim grinned and nodded, pleased that she had been able to give Dean some relevant information but he did not share her excitement. Dean tore his arm out from under Castiel, causing the smaller man to tumble off the bed and become entangled in myriad blankets.

"Dean? What's wrong?" said Castiel as he picked himself up but the hunter was not listening. Dean was tearing through one of the many boxes lining the walls of his room until he found what he was looking for.

He flipped furiously through the old Bible and stopped suddenly before turning to Cecilia.

"Get over here you little bitch!" the Cherubim obeyed begrudgingly, sticking her tongue out at Dean as a reply to the insult.

Dean shoved the Bible in her face and pointed to a page, "_This_ right? You want me to do this?" she nodded, "Well _fuck_! How the fuck am I supposed to do that?! I couldn't even convince my own brother that sucking demon blood was bad, how am I supposed to convince the whole fuckin' world –" Dean stopped abruptly and chucked the Bible across the room and stormed out the door.

Castiel pulled a shirt over his head, barely registering that it was Dean's, before chasing after his friend. As he ran past Sam's door he and Gadreel peeked out.

"What's going on Cas?"

"Something's wrong with Dean!" Cas cried. Sam and Gadreel took off pursuing Cas and Dean to the front room where Dean was methodically loading a gun. The three of them arrived just in time to see Dean hold the barrel to his head.

"No!" Sam and Castiel shouted as Gadreel waved his hand, causing Dean's wrist to twist just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet collided with the wall rather than Dean's skull.

Sam launched forward and wrestled his brother to the ground, smacking the gun from his hand and dealing one well-deserved punch to Dean's face.

"Damnit Dean, if I'm not allowed to kill myself then neither are you!"

"What were you doing?!" Castiel cried as he flew to Dean's side. The older Winchester shrugged them off.

"Killing myself, obviously, there's nothing we can do to stop Bartholomew anyway so why not go out on your own terms?"

"Don't say that Dean, just… don't." Dean looked up at Castiel's puppy eyes and the tears that threatened to spill out of them and faltered slightly.

"Damnit." He reached up and pulled Cas into his chest, "I'm sorry Cas, but it's impossible. I can't do it."

"And what exactly is _it_?" asked Gadreel as he took a moment from hovering protectively over Sam's shoulder.

Dean glared at Cecilia who hovered, quite innocently, off his right shoulder. "I would make her tell you but since she doesn't speak… basically she told me last night that in order to bring God into this I have to bribe him to show his face."

"How do we do it Dean? We'll help." Gadreel and Castiel nodded in agreement with Sam. Dean sighed.

"That's the thing, I have to do what Samuel did, bring the people to God. All of them."

"What do you mean _all_?" Sam asked, "Like just the States or what?"

"Nope," Dean stood with Cas still on his arm, "Every last soul on this planet has to believe in some sort of higher power. It'll take years, by then Bartholomew will have already won."

Sam didn't know what to say. Dean was right, it was impossible. He opened his mouth to ask for the gun when Castiel spoke up.

"Charlie," he grinned, when everyone else gave him odd looks he removed himself from Dean to elaborate, "We can have her create a live feed of Dean's message to every laptop, radio, smartphone, and television on the planet and broadcast on all of them at once. That'll reach the majority of the population. The rest will come by word of mouth."

"Holy shit Cas, look at the brain on you." Dean was excited now; he could do it, with the help of his much-smarter-than-him-friends. He wondered briefly if his predecessor, Samuel, had a similar experience.

Dean grinned at his friends and draped an arm over Castiel's shoulders as he pulled out his phone and punched in a number.

"Charlie?" he asked when the line cleared, "Hey it's Dean, I need your help."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Alright, so all this shit's hooked up to the other shit which magically makes this one work with that one and presto-chango, operation Word of God is go!" Charlie rested her hands on her hips and grinned playfully at the Winchesters and Angels. "Don't suppose you'll reward me with a real working magic wand for helping?"

The Angels looked at each other in confusion and Charlie pouted, "One thing! That's all I ask for and they don't have one!" she continued to pout her way over to the control panel she'd rigged up just for the occasion and sat. Charlie waved Dean and Cecilia into the sound booth as she gently placed her oversized headphones over her ears.

"Any questions Dean?" she asked into the mic, Dean looked like he was about to pee himself. He was nervous because they weren't in the bunker; the technology was too ancient there for even Charlie to put it to good use. He didn't know what to say, how could he? And he was also devastated.

Dean glanced out of the corner of his eye at Castiel who grinned right back and wondered just how naïve Cas really was.

_Did he mean what I want him to or what he actually said?_ Dean thought.

One hour earlier

Dean was everywhere at once grabbing his tie and jacket and combing his hair in the small back room that Charlie and Cecilia had decided would be his 'dressing room.'

In stark contrast to Dean's momentary insanity Castiel sat off to the side in a chair, cool, calm, and collected as usual. Dean stopped in front of a mirror, finally getting that one damned unruly strand of hair to get down and stay there before turning to Cas and throwing his arms out at his sides.

"How do I look?" he waggled his eyebrows at his friend jokingly only for Cas to smile warmly back as he stood to brush discarded strands of hair from Dean's shoulders.

"You look wonderful Dean. It seemed that my Father truly is on your side, you will win them over, if not by your words then by your Heavenly appearance."

Dean blushed and stared with wide eyes at his friend.

"Who taught you to say stuff like that?"

Cas smirked, "I may have been learning a few things…"

Dean couldn't help himself. He was about to go make a fool of himself in front of the whole world, possibly be killed or ambushed by Angels and here was Castiel just being so damn cute despite it all.

He slapped his hands on Cas' shoulders and gazed into his blue eyes, wishing that his emotions could be conveyed without the use of his own untrustworthy words. Dean swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak.

"I like you Cas!" he blurted out, mentally slapping himself across the face for not using the word he so wanted to say.

Castiel smiled and, for a moment Dean thought that his meaning may have been clear to Cas, but then the man opened his mouth.

"I like you too Dean, you're my best friend."

Dean was devastated, sure he'd been emotionally vague in his confession but Cas was a whole other story. Did he mean the same as Dean had when he'd said 'like' or did he really just mean 'like?' did he mean 'best friend but could we could give it a go at more' or 'best friend let's leave it at that?' Dean's head spun as he found his thirty-two year old self feeling much more like a fifteen year old girl than he would like.

He opened his mouth, intent on elaborating, when Charlie poked her head in the door and informed him that the technology was ready. They could get this show on the road.

Present time

Dean tugged at his tie nervously and nodded.

"Okay Charlie, flip the switch." The red 'on air' sign above the door lip up, but that's all that happened. Dean found himself looking at his friends nervously rather than into the camera and brimming with confidence.

"A-are we… is it on?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow and flipped a few switches, "It should be…" she said as she ducked her head below the desk and rummaged around for a moment, there's something not right I just don't know what it is –"

"Could it possibly be this?" every species in the room turned abruptly – suddenly all weapons were at hand – when met with the sleazy unpleasant sound of Bartholomew's voice. He stood, previously unseen, at the back of the room holding a severed cord between his fingers. "You Winchesters honestly didn't believe that I could let you get away with something like this did you? The plan was magnificent, really it was, but bringing a few apes to God wasn't really going to help your cause. Who are you that God should listen to _your_ prayers?"

Dean bolted from the sound booth and pulled Castiel – who stood closest to Bartholomew – with him as the blond Angel and his ever present posse drew their own blades, prepared for a fight. Dean pulled a gun out of the waistband of his pants and fired off a round without thinking.

Bartholomew waved his hand and the bullet ricocheted off of him, finding its mark across the room. Charlie gasped in pain and crumpled to the ground grasping her stomach as the bullet slowed to a stop and blood flowed freely over her trembling fingers. Sam and Gadreel dove to the girl's aid only for their momentum to be flung backwards, knocking the breath from Sam when his back collided with the wall.

"Really now Dean, did you honestly think that you could stop us?" with another wave of his hand Castiel grunted and jerked to the ground, clutching his stomach, Dean moved to comfort his friend to no avail and was helpless to quell Castiel's suffering. Cecilia launched herself at her brother in an attempt to fight but her tiny body was slapped to the side with a flick of Bartholomew's finger, leaving Dean the last man standing in a room full of pain, broken bodies, and some seriously pissed off Angels.

Castiel growled and, in direct defiance of the pain twisting his insides into knots, whipped out his blade to attack only for Dean to step in between Bartholomew and his best friend.

"I am perfectly capable of protecting myself Dean, if you die there is no closing the gates of Heaven!"

Dean'd had just about enough of Castiel's selfless 'I'm so unimportant' bullshit, he snarled, never taking his eyes off of the enemy and his followers.

"Yea, well if you die there's no me."

"How cute," Bartholomew teased. He nodded to the side and the Angel on his left gripped her blade tighter and stalked menacingly towards the painfully immobile Sam and Gadreel, "let's see how cute you'll be after I've had your brother gutted."

Worry peppered Sam's expression as the Angel advanced and he tugged with every muscle in his body but was still unable to move. Dean lurched towards his brother only for the Angel on Bartholomew's right to make a move towards Castiel, Dean was forced to choose between Cas and his brother the little brother he swore to protect or the man he loved. Dean swallowed hard and screwed his eyes shut. He stayed put.

"You see Dean, if you had just given us what we wanted your friends wouldn't have to pay the price. Though you are no Samuel I must admit it was fun to watch you squirm."

Dean cracked an eye open and looked on in horror as the female Angel raised her blade over his brother, bringing it down with acute precision on its mark. She halted abruptly and growled when Gadreel's hand shot out, gripping the blade though his wounds glowed and blood spilled, keeping the blade mere inches from piercing Sam's heart.

"How are you doing that?!" she shrieked and pressed harder. Gadreel grunted and strained against her, keeping Sam's life took priority over the fingers he might lose in the process.

"Perhaps, my sister, you would be stronger as well if this human had shown _you_ how to sleep." Gadreel grinned darkly, his grip on the blade slipping just so that a centimeter of space rested between Sam and his death.

"Bartholomew stop!" Dean bellowed, "I'll go with you, I'll die, I'll give you the book, I don't care just don't kill them!"

Bartholomew shook his head sadly, "The time for deals has passed Dean, the time for death is now."

Castiel gasped and buried his face in the back of Dean's shirt as the Angel blade pierced flesh and the blinding light of the weapon claiming its kill filled the room. When he could see past the shimmery veil of death tears spilled from Dean's eyes and he shoved Cas further behind him, not wanting him to see.

Rather than Sam being pierced through the heart Castiel's brother had moved, with what Dean could only assume was all of his strength, in front of the younger Winchester. He had himself braced against the wall, back to his attacker, hands on either side of Sam. The young man's eyes were wide as he stared in utter astonishment at the savior who had been willing to lay his life down.

Gadreel's head hung limply between his shoulders and the body followed suit, slumping and finally dropping once the blade was removed from his back.

Dean's heart nearly burst out of his chest as the sickening snap of bone cracked against his eardrums and his brother's head snapped to the side without so much as a warning's notice. He took a single step forward but stopped, there was nothing he could do and he had to protect Cas… where was Cas? Dean could no longer feel the man pressed against his back and whirled around, immediately wishing the brimstone and grateful death of Hellfire to rain down on him as well.

Castiel lay crumpled at Dean's feet having suffered the same fate as Sam. Dean opened his mouth and, for a moment, no words escaped him and he fell to his knees, not caring about the disgusting pop and crack that colliding with the solid floor had elicited from them.

"Cas?" he reached out and gathered the man in his arms, too scared to check for a pulse but feeling horrible if he were to not.

_No, no, no, no, no, oh God! He can't be, he's not – help him, he can't be! _He prayed as he fell apart. He was utterly alone, Charlie, Cecilia, Sam, Gadreel… Cas, all gone.

An insane little smile blossomed on his lips as he shook Cas' shoulder gently, "Cas? It's alright buddy, you're fine, just wake up okay? Then we can go home but first you have to wake up."

Bartholomew laughed joyfully over the hunter and his broken Angel and stooped down, retrieving Cecilia's book from his pocket. He raised his own Angel blade above his head and grinned.

"It's time to say goodbye, Prophet."


	11. On Holiday

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's note:** Okay… I haven't written smut in a while and I tried really hard and researched the Hell out of it so I would like to apologize if this is terrible and if you don't feel like giving me a chance I totally understand. Please be kind.

**Chapter Ten**: Escape from Reality

Dean couldn't say what happened next but as the Angels' screams of anguish illustrated quite nicely it must have been something amazing because suddenly, rather than being perched alone in a room filled with the lifeless corpses of his friends, Dean was back home in the front room of the bunker with Castiel still in his arms but the others tucked up in three other beds. Cecilia's book was in his pocket. Dean glanced down in surprise as the bodies of his best friend as well as that of his brother, Charlie, and Gadreel sprung to life. Cas gasped for breath and gripped at Dean's arms before passing out entirely, the others followed suit.

Dean shook his head in disbelief as he openly gaped in awe at the rise and fall of Castiel's chest as though it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Words that were not his own rang in his head.

_That demon was right; when the Winchesters call I do come running._

Dean blinked and prayed a small thank you before laying Castiel down beneath the sheets of the bed that he suddenly realized he was sitting on and hurried to check on the others.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean found himself in an unwelcome state of déjà vu as he waited at the side of his bed, head in his hands, for Castiel to wake up. Well, he was waiting for Gadreel as well but admittedly spent the majority of his time at Cas' side. Precisely one week had passed since the incident and Charlie had gone home despite having been shot, and Sam had gone shopping. Dean place two fingers at the base of Cas' neck just to prove to himself that his love truly was alive.

He laid his head on the bed, angling just so that he could watch the beat of Cas' heart cause his skin to twitch out a steady rhythm as he slept. Dean grinned and wondered if Cas knew that his Father had saved him yet again and that God really did care about what happened to him. He turned his attention suddenly to Cas' face, struggling to not remember the battered appearance of his friend during that night at the hospital but upon comparing then no now Dean couldn't help but to smile.

All of Castiel's wounds were healed. He grinned wider and stood up slowly, pushing himself up to hover over Cas, putting one hand on either side of his body and lowering himself down until his lips met with the soft yet stubbly skin of Cas' cheek.

Dean pulled away quickly when he felt the previously comatose man's face move under his lips, embarrassed that he'd been caught.

"That was quite the good morning Dean." Cas glanced around him upon realizing that there were no windows in the room, "Is it morning?"

Dean chuckled, his embarrassment dissipating quickly as he sat by his friend's side and checked his watch. "Eleven thirty at night dude, you're off by a few hours."

Castiel grunted and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. "Let me go back to sleep then!"

"No Cas, you should try and stay awake for a while."

"I've only been sleeping for an hour!" the tired man groaned.

"Cas, you've been asleep for like eight days, so has Gadreel." Cas' eyes widened and he looked behind him to where Dean was pointing to see Gadreel asleep in the next bed, Dean having moved his last two patients to his room rather than have them sleep on display in the living room.

Cas raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Where is Sam?"

Dean shrugged, not at all concerned with the whereabouts of his little brother. "Out? I think he said something about getting Gadreel some real clothes? I really dunno."

"And Charlie?"

"Fit as a fiddle," Dean laughed, "she wanted nothing more than to return to Moondor and show her subjects that she was okay."

"Cecilia?"

Dean sighed, tiring quickly of Cas' incessant questioning and opened the small book on the bedside table to show Cas that his sister was safe before closing it again. Castiel flopped back onto the mattress and sighed in relief.

"Then everything is as it should be –" Cas suddenly paused, his hand flew to his throat in alarm as realization washed over him, "How am I alive?"

Dean winced, hoping that Cas wouldn't remember that part. He put on a grin. "The power of my love brought you back to life."

Cas stared at him a moment, "It was God wasn't it Dean?" Dean nodded his head, affording affirmation to the curious blue eyes that gazed at him, brimming with happiness.

"Though I am very glad that my Father decided to step in I would have been perfectly happy accepting your version of the events following my death."

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. Why did Cas have to walk right into things like this while making the situation so difficult for Dean? "I really do love you Cas…" when Castiel didn't answer Dean was sure he'd done something wrong and moved to stand up, intent on banging his head on the wall in the hallway when Cas' hand lashed out, wrapping around Dean's wrist and tugging him back down. Dean could barely suppress a yelp when Cas not-so-gently wrapped his hands around the back of Dean's neck and pulled him in.

Teeth clashed painfully against one another and Dean winced at the slight discomfort. Castiel sighed and melted into his hunter, fisting his hands in the front of Dean's shirt and tugging lightly. Dean was much obliged to allow Castiel to push the annoying cloth up and over his head as soon as the shirt had been flung unceremoniously into a heap on the floor Cas suddenly kicked up, flipping their positions. The mattress groaned at the sudden shift in weight that had been imposed upon it.

Cas moved quickly to straddle Dean's waist, eliciting a heady groan from the hunter as their groins brushed against one another. Dean stilled and looked up at Cas whose pupils were blown so wide with sudden overwhelming lust that there was but a thin ring of brilliant blue visible. There was something else there intermingling with the sheer need in the man's eyes but he just couldn't quite put his finger on –

"Ohhh Cas!" Dean moaned when Castiel repeated his previous action, driving his hips down as his fingers dealt light feather touches over the expanse of his skin. Dean's hands flew to Cas' waist to steady him, preventing the man from continuing his onslaught.

"Cas, s-stop." Castiel growled and leaned over Dean, capturing his lips in a rare display of dominance, the effects of which shot straight to Dean's –

"No Dean, I am conveying my mutual feeling of love to you. I may be naïve but you cannot tell me that this is not correct." A groan spilled from Dean's throat, his head rolling to the side, as Castiel lapped at his jaw, running his tongue from Dean's adam's apple to the shell of his ear. _I thought this guy was supposed to be a virgin!_ Dean's eyes fluttered shut.

"I know Cas… It's right, I just… just want to make – sure you know what you're doing – _ah_!" the end of his statement escalated into a high pitched moan when Cas suddenly sat up, his clothed ass rubbing against Dean's covered member just so. Castiel blushed and Dean's jaw dropped open. He'd seen Cas like this before, blood rushing to his face, glancing away in embarrassment, slight frown on those plush lips, but beholding the same sight when Castiel was practically sitting on his dick was a whole different story.

"A-as you know Dean, I've never had intercou – sex with anyone before, Angel or human," he corrected himself, knowing that Dean preferred colloquial terms for fornication, "I've never felt this way before, not about anyone and when you said you loved me…" Cas trailed off, distracted as his fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of Dean's pants, "I wanted to fuck you into oblivion right there." And that was that.

Dean threw his weight, flipping Cas onto his back and tearing through his clothes. He only had a moment to wish Cas could just mojo their clothes away before his brain stopped working upon seeing the beautiful sight before him. For a moment they both stilled, taking in each other's appearance. The smooth expanse of Cas' silky pale skin which was being offered up to him provoked a low moan from Dean, he stooped down, taking his Angel's lips by force for just a moment before breaking away and grinning devilishly at the squirming man beneath him.

"I think it's about time I showed you how much I really love you Cas."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Gadreel stumbled out of the sky in the middle of a small clothing store.

"Sam?" he choked out hoarsely, but no one answered. Assuming that his diminished power had led him to the wrong location he prepared to fly again when a wavy mop of brown hair caught his eye by a sign that said 'dressing rooms.'

Gadreel forced one foot in front of the other, ignoring the dull pain in his chest and the looks the other customers gave him with blood soaked bandages falling out of his sleeves.

"Sam." The young hunter jumped, dropping the load of clothes in his arms and reaching for the gun Gadreel was sure he kept in his pocket.

"Gadreel?!" he exclaimed, "What are you doing here? I thought you were still asleep." Sam glanced around him and noticed that they were getting worried looks and pulled Gadreel into the closest dressing room. "What are you doing here?" Sam hissed again.

"I was sleeping Sam, but our brothers were engaging in… sinful activities and I assumed that they would like to have their privacy." Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Dude, I am so sorry you had to see that." Gadreel raised an eyebrow as though he did not understand, causing Sam to blush slightly and change the topic. He sat on the bench attached to the north wall of the little room and Gadreel sat on the south.

"You saved my life." Sam said as he rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, "Why would you do that?"

Once again Gadreel looked as though he did not understand, "Is it not common practice," he said, "that when one sees something of value that his first instinct is to protect it?"

Sam simply stared at the Angel in unabashed awe at how blunt Gadreel was in the practice of being. "You think I'm valuable?" Sam finally said.

Suddenly Gadreel was on his feet and pulling Sam up, "Yes." The old Angel pressed Sam's back flush to the wall. The hunter hissed, not excited to be put in a corner, "Is that not correct?"

"I-I don't know… maybe?" Sam was beginning to find it difficult to form coherent thoughts with Gadreel's sure hands sliding beneath his shirt, calloused hands ghosting up and down his torso. He barely suppressed a moan as the Angel's hands sank lower and clamped down on his hipbones. Hard.

"I thought this kind of thing – was sinful?!" Sam yelped and securing a hand over his mouth immediately, hoping beyond hope that the other inhabitants of the store could not hear.

Gadreel grinned at the hunter and Sam shivered, unable to tear his eyes from the Angel's smile, "I did say that and perhaps would have treated it as such had our brothers not given me such appealing ideas."

"Ideas?" Sam parroted and lifted his arms easily as Gadreel pushed his shirt off.

"Ideas." The Angel confirmed.

Gadreel wasted no time in ridding the hunter of the rest of his clothing, fumbling slightly with the buttons of his shirt before getting fed up and tearing it off, irritated at the fact that he was not strong enough to simply will the offending material away with the blink of his eye. He claimed Sam's lips, harsh and demanding, his teeth clanking painfully against the hunters and eliciting a strangled cry from Sam that Gadreel gratefully swallowed down. He let his hands wander clumsily over the hunter, caressing every muscle before his fingers came in contact with the hem of Sam's black boxers. Just as he was about to yank them down Sam's hands grasped his wrists, stilling him. Gadreel growled in disapproval and raised his glazed eyes to Sam's.

"Y-you too…" Sam stuttered out. Gadreel rolled his eyes, ascertaining the intention in Sam's request and stepped back as far as he possibly could in the small room, making quick work of his own clothing; throwing first his sweatshirt then shirt and undershirt to the floor before yanking down his jeans and practically tearing his boxers from his body, exposing his painfully engorged cock to the heated air between them.

Sam's breath hitched as his hand ceased the menstruations on his own prominent bulge, not even having realized that Gadreel's inviting, albeit quick, strip tease had enticed him into touching himself. Suddenly he was on his feet, snaking his hands 'round Gadreel's waist and pulling the slightly shorter man into a bruising kiss. Sam felt Gadreel stiffen as the hunter's hand dipped below his immediate field of vision, gripping his member in a no nonsense hold. Sam dragged his palm along his partner's length, making sure to twist his hand as he tugged up causing Gadreel's head to spin and in a second Sam's head cracked painfully against one of the wooden benches as the Angel tackled him to the floor, straddling his waist.

Three fingers were shoved mercilessly into Sam's mouth without permission asked or granted, causing him to gag ever-so-slightly as Gadreel attacked his chest. Sam mewled around the digits as the old Angel's tongue swiped hungrily across one of his nipples. Gadreel was definitely talented and as opposed to Cas, was as far from a virgin as Sam could have ever hoped. Sam whimpered as Gadreel's thoroughly slicked fingers slid from his mouth.

Gadreel shushed him gently before taking the hunter's lips and gingerly lifting his own hips. Sam broke their contact upon receiving the first heavenly sound that spilled from the angel's lips, he groaned and his head dropped back as his eyes rolled back in his head at what he saw.

Gadreel had his back arched just so that he could get a better angle at himself as his fingers probed not in the least bit gently at his behind, not even having given himself time to adjust before plunging all three fingers in. Sam gaped openly at this and looked up at Gadreel, their eyes met a moment, a silent plea emanating from him. Sam's hands moved of their own accord, removing Gadreel's hand from its compromising position and pulling the Angel's hips forward harshly. The old Angel was barely able to contain a scream as Sam thrust into him. The pressure pressing in on him from all sides inside Gadreel's ass making Sam see stars. His body began to rock, pounding out a steady rhythm. Sam's hands left Gadreel's hips, flying to his shoulders and pulling him down to meet Sam in one last kiss as Gadreel's walls clenched, his orgasm ripping through him.

Sam swallowed every delicious moan tumbling from his Angel's lips and groaned in response, filling Gadreel to the brim with his seed as his vision blinked pure white and his mouth slipped away from the kiss, the Angel's name and several indistinguishable proclamations tumbling from his mouth in a sloppy scream.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Gadreel!" the young woman manning the counter of _Casual Clothing_ flinched at the obvious sounds of sex going on in one of her dressing rooms. She wondered a moment how that would go seeing as how she'd made the rooms so small for a purpose. Only one damn person was supposed to fit in there!

She smiled at the customer in front of her who also seemed incredibly uncomfortable and, upon feeling the eyes of the other customers on her back, realized that they expected her to deal with it. The shop girl sighed and asked the next man in line to kindly wait a moment while she 'restocked the back' and hurried to the dressing rooms, not hoping to see something along the lines of the gay sex that was obviously happening, but hoping to tell the offenders to knock it the Hell off before someone called the police.

For a moment she stood in front of the dressing room that the noises had been emitted from in hesitation, giving the perpetrators a second to at least get their pants back on before she yanked the curtain back.

One expertly plucked eyebrow arched in confusion and annoyance. Whereas there was a huge ass mess of sweat and other deplorable things on her floor there were no men, somehow they'd managed to skip out before she caught them. The girl wrinkled her nose in disgust and wandered to the store room and back before dropping a 'wet floor' sign in front of that particular room before hurrying back to her customers.

"Damn horny bastards." She mumbled.

**Author's note:** Well that escalated quickly… Usually I can't write this kind of shit about Sam… can't even read it but to write this (however horrible the writing was) I had to do an ass ton of research, each fic bad-touching me in all the wrong places. I'm sorry if my abhorrence translates into my writing.


	12. Good Graces

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay… real life has a tendency to get in the way of such things. Thank you all for the support and views and reviews and love! Let's get this show back on the road!

**Chapter Eleven**: Good Graces

Dean turned his head lazily to the side as the front door flew open and slammed shut, trying not to move too sharply lest he disturb Castiel who was snuggled affectionately into his side.

There was a bad black and white telenovela on the television, something that Dean had turned on simply for the white noise. Since becoming human Cas had trouble sleeping when it was too quiet.

Dean sighed and removed his arm from around Cas' shoulder when a flurry of ruffled flannel and long hair rushed through the room. There was no mistaking it since his brother, little girl though he was, usually did not take his frequent emotional outbursts to such a level. Something was eating at Sam, bad.

"Dean?" Cas asked slowly. He blinked and rubbed his eyes tiredly, eradicating any remaining sleepiness as he moved to sit up. Dean smiled reassuringly at his lover and guided him back to lie on the couch as Gadreel entered the room.

"Just checking on Sam, Cas. I'll be back in a minute 'kay?" Castiel nodded and shut his eyes, immediately beginning to snore softly. Dean grinned, knowing that it was their very own adventures in foreplay that had so completely tuckered Castiel out.

Dean cast his gaze on Gadreel, eyebrow raised as though to ask _what happened?_ The Angel simply shrugged.

"I was not aware of any problem."

Dean mimicked Gadreel's confused gesture and stalked down the hall after his brother who, once again, had barricaded himself in his room and refused to come out. No amount of coaxing, threatening, yelling, pleading or bribery on Dean's part could even convince his brother to answer him, let alone open the door.

"C'mon Sammy, don't make me kick you damn door in? I swear to Go –" the latch clicked once, revealing that Sam had chosen to let his brother in. Dean grabbed the doorknob and barged right in, expecting to see Sam in another horrible bout of depression and anger. He shut the door behind him and took a seat next to his little brother on the bed. For a moment neither of them spoke, they simply sat, elbows on their knees, staring at the floor beneath their bare feet, not particularly wanting to have this conversation.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" Dean asked quietly, forced by his brother's brooding composure to break the silence swelling between them.

Sam looked up slowly, meeting his brother's gaze with a look of pure despair, "I had sex with Gadreel."

A vicious snort ripped from Dean before he could stop it. Sam looked back down at his hands, obviously embarrassed, and Dean immediately backtracked. He scratched his head nervously and shrugged.

"So what man? Have sex with who you want, I mean, I had sex with Cas, well, it wasn't _really_ sex but close enough is close enough, right?" He grinned up at Sam who had a slight smile on his face at hearing that his brother finally made an honest man of Castiel but the joy was quickly chased away by a deep scowl.

"But you didn't do what I did Dean." Sam shook his head, choosing his words carefully, "I was so freaked out at finally feeling something for someone, another Angel nonetheless, and I panicked that maybe he'd die when I wasn't looking or something and told him I loved him." Sam fiddled with his fingers nervously, awaiting his brother's response.

Dean frowned a moment, "Do you love him?"

Sam's head shot up to look his brother in the face, "Dean, I've known the guy less than a month –"

"And he's already given you his life _and_ his body so I'll ask you one more time, Do. You. Love. Him?"

Sam opened his mouth, intent on answering, but sputtered out something inaudible before hanging his head, defeated.

"Yes…"

"Well that solves that problem," Dean said as he slapped his hands on his knees and stood up, "C'mon back out and socialize a bit you ginormous hermit, Gadreel seemed worried."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam was still blushing and Dean grinned, leading his brother back to the front room and their respective lovers where Castiel was up and watching the telenovela with Gadreel. Both were speaking fluent Spanish.

Dean smirked as he approached the couch, hopping over the back and plopping down between the brothers.

"Damn Cas, I didn't know you spoke Italian, that's hot."

Cas laughed, a lighthearted musical sound that caused Dean's heart to squeeze. "Its Spanish Dean_ pero se me voy a entrar en los pantalones mas rapido voy a hablar mas a menudo._"

Dean groaned appreciatively of Cas' humoring him and threw his arms around the smaller man.

Gadreel smiled at his brother and Dean before looking up at Sam, keeping his posture relaxed despite the concern in his eyes.

"Are you feeling alright Sam?" the younger Winchester smiled and nodded, rounding the end of the couch to set himself down in the seat next to the Angel. His grin grew wider when Gadreel scooted a bit closer and brushed their hands together.

"Yea, I'm great."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Cecilia felt happy as she leisurely made her way in and out of rooms, through corridors and deeper into the bunker exploring every inch of her new home. The Prophet made a point of letting her free of her confines first thing in the morning, sometimes forgetting to seal her away again for days, only remembering to when the Cherubim needed a rest.

She flitted happily out of the lab and downstairs to the front room. Cecilia stopped on Dean's shoulder, settling down comfortably before grabbing onto his ear and screaming excitedly into it.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean jumped right off the couch as a quick flash of blue runes rippled across his skin. He swiped at his ear, completely ignoring the worried looks he was getting from his family. Cecilia flew from Dean's shoulder to perch in Castiel's hair, loving the fluffy texture.

"What did you do?" Castiel chastised as he poked at his sister, Gadreel watched the two affectionately.

Dean, grinning like an idiot and laughing like a maniac, pulled Cas off the couch and into a hug.

"It's the first trial Cas! And it's an easy one!" that got everyone's attention right quick and Gadreel and Sam were on their feet in a second.

"What is it?" Sam demanded, "What do we have to do?"

Dean switched from hugging Cas to Sam who was less than enthusiastic about it. "I have to be infected by Angel Grace; I guess it's supposed to be parallel to the Hell trials and the hellhound blood or something."

"That's great!" Sam exclaimed, breaking their embrace to gesture to Gadreel. "We've got an Angel right here! He'll just 'infect' you or whatever and we're good to go!"

The brothers' smiles quickly died when they saw the looks on Gadreel and Castiels' faces as the two glanced at each other nervously.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, kinda bummed that they weren't as stoked about this new development as he was.

Cas cast one last look at his brother and fidgeted with his hands, avoiding Dean's eyes, "I can't let you do that Dean."

"What?" Dean was suddenly pissed, his hands balled into fists at his sides, how dare Cas try and stop him? This whole 'close the gates of Heaven' thing was for him too!

Sensing that Dean was about to explode Gadreel took a step forward, effectively placing himself between his brother and Dean.

"It is not only that Castiel will not allow me to infect you with my Grace, Prophet, but I am not willing to share it with you," Dean opened his mouth to retaliate, as did Sam, but Gadreel cut them both off, "I refuse to help with this matter because I would not dare harm my brother in such a way," he glanced at Cas over his shoulder, "I care for him far too much for that."

"Whoa, what the Hell are you talking about?" Sam asked, "It's not like we're asking you two to fuck or anything, we just need you to give a little Grace."

Gadreel's brow furrowed as he made uncomfortable eye contact with Cas. Dean brought a hand to his forehead in disbelief upon finally figuring out what Gadreel was hinting at.

"You've got to be kidding me, so I've got to have sex with an Angel to get some of his Grace?"

"So you see why we have reached this impasse." Gadreel added, "It is not only the transfer of Grace that occurs during intercourse with an Angel, it is a bond that is forged with the strength of God, it cannot be broken, ever. I believe the equivalent would be a human marriage?"

Sam's eyes widened, "So we're married?!" he blurted, immediately regretting his public acknowledgement of sex with Gadreel though three of the five of them already knew.

Gadreel shook his head with what may have been a note of sadness in his expression, "No Sam, the roles would have had to have been reversed for such a bond to occur. I would certainly have asked permission before doing such a thing."

"Well that's all fine and dandy but now we have to find me an Angel to screw!" Dean threw his hands in the air, pausing suddenly when his eyes met Cas' and his heart shattered into a million pieces.

The man was practically shaking as he stared wide eyed at Dean. He slowly opened his mouth.

"Y-you would…" he found himself unable to finish the thought and darted suddenly out of the room, hit hard once again with those annoying human emotions. Cecilia followed closely behind her distraught brother while casting Dean disapproving looks.

"Cas!" Dean started to follow the man but was yanked back by his collar and a debilitating punch was dealt to the side of his face. Dean was sent sprawling to the floor. As soon as he could pull himself together he looked up to see burning rage on Gadreel's usually passive face as he primed his knuckles, which were covered in blood that was not his, for another blow.

Before he could get the Hell out of the way Gadreel scooped Dean up off the ground by the throat, holding him just off the ground. The Angel's jaw was set as he spoke.

"I would gut you right here if Sam was not watching," Gadreel hissed, "though I will certainly harm you greatly if by the time you are finished speaking with my brother his heart is not completely mended, do you understand? My brother is a frail creature and I can prove to be quite fierce when provoked, there is a reason why my father posted me at the gate of the garden. You will apologize for suggesting to bond with another Angel and you will beg _on your knees_ for his forgiveness. You. Will. Fix. This."

Dean nodded quickly and Gadreel dropped him to the floor and turned away.

"Wow," Sam said once Gadreel had gone, "You really can be an insensitive asshole sometimes, you know that?"

Dean was at a loss for words as his little brother turned and walked away. What the Hell had he done?

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

It was three in the fucking morning when Dean finally found Castiel. Damn that guy could seriously disappear when he didn't want to be found.

He had been cursing the Men of Letters for making the bunker so damn big when he'd heard a single strangled whimper coming from a broom closet.

Dean cleared his throat and knocked softly on the door. "Um, Cas? You in there?"

"G-go away Dean." Cas' voice broke as he spoke. Dean sighed and lowered himself to the floor, leaning his back against the door.

"I'm really sorry Cas, I shouldn't have said that and I didn't mean it." Dean bit back a groan at how incredibly girly he was being, "who am I kidding, I don't really have an excuse but if it means anything… I would only ever do that bonding thingy with you. I love you Cas, I mean that every time I say it, Hell, it gets more true every time, and it got me thinking. We still need to do these trials and end this thing so… I wanna find your Grace wherever it is. I wanna bond with you –"

Dean yelped as the door behind him opened and he fell back, rather than his head colliding with the cold cement ground he looked up to see that he'd landed in Cas' lap.

Cecilia looked pissed; she obviously had not wanted Castiel to let Dean in. Cas' eyes were red rimmed and blood-shot from crying, his hair was disheveled and face pale. A few big salty tears dripped from his cheeks onto Dean's face.

"Do you mean it Dean? You would bond with me?"

Dean smiled softly and reached his hands up to grip Cas' head, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

"Yea Cas, and not just for the trials either. We're gonna go find your Grace and get your wings back then we'll get Angel hitched."

Castiel nodded erratically and dropped his torso, practically lying on Dean. "I love you Dean, thank you!"

"I love you too Cas, I love you so much."


	13. The Hunt is Afoot

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's Note: **Holy crap man, it's been forever since I've done anything remotely productive! Sorry about this… it's kind of filler so I can re-capture the feel of this story, hopefully I'll get my shit together and finish this thing soon!

**Chapter Twelve**: The Hunt is Afoot

Sam's head hurt. The kind of hurt that blossomed after tedious hours and brutal days of nothing _nothing_ but research, an annoying hovering older brother and copious amounts of caffeine both in the form of coffee and any sort of cola he could get his hands on. His own personal hell was only made better by the fact that it was Gadreel who both made his coffee for him and delivered to him his food and drink with one of those rare smiles that absolutely made his life.

Sam rubbed his temples, irritated and utterly stumped. He couldn't fathom why Dean couldn't research the problem himself rather than farming out the task to his younger brother. It wasn't Sam's boyfriend's Grace they were looking for it was Dean's! He snickered at the thought of his macho manly older brother having a boyfriend and closed another tab on his computer, deeming it an untrustworthy source of information. Well that was fifteen resources dried up. Sam sighed and laid his head on the keyboard.

Castiel's Grace was nowhere to be found there was no magnificent oak tree at the site of its impact with Earth like there had been in the case of Anna and, even in the months since Cas' fall there had been no Heavenly omens.

Sam smiled as he heard someone pad quietly into the kitchen and sit in the chair next to him.

A large hand rested on his shoulder – Gadreel's no doubt – and Sam sat up. He smiled at his boyfriend, now finding that the title was less to be laughed at when it applied to him.

Gadreel didn't look tired – when did he ever – as Sam grinned across the table at him. He expected the Angel to tell him that it was time to take a break and maybe sneak away somewhere to "rest" but that, unfortunately for Sam, was not the case.

"I love you."

Sam's grin stayed plastered on his face a moment before melting into a look of terror then one of confusion.

"W-what?"

Gadreel's grip on his shoulder tightened a bit. "I believe you confessed your love for me at the clothing store. I apologize for not reciprocating earlier but there wasn't much in the way of time to do so."

Sam's mouth dropped open but no words would pass his lips. He wanted to tell Gadreel that it was okay if he didn't really feel the same, he didn't want to pressure him into a relationship he didn't want but remembered suddenly what the Angel had done for him and told him about precious things. And damn if Sam didn't deserve to feel special just this once!

He smiled softly and leaned across the table to plant a chaste kiss on Gadreel's lips.

"Thanks, I love you too –"

"Really Sam? In the kitchen?"

Both Sam and Gadreel looked up in not so much of a hurry as Dean strolled in and made a beeline for the fridge. Castiel, who had followed closely behind Dean, took a seat next to his brother at the table with his sister perched once again in his hair.

"Whatever Dean," Sam rolled his eyes, "You've done worse with skanky chicks on _my stuff_ than I've done in your precious kitchen." He didn't notice Cas cringe at the accusation. Dean glared disapprovingly at his brother.

"What have you found Sam?" he demanded, wanting nothing more than to keep Cas off the topic of his past hookups.

"Nothing," Sam threw his hands up and slapped the side of his laptop, "I hardly know what I'm looking for Dean, considering we've only ever done this once and that was a wash!"

Dean took his seat and proceeded to pour the rest of the milk into his bowl of lucky charms to which Sam raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Dean hunched over his food protectively, "I like the marshmallows." He shoveled the biggest possible spoonful into his mouth. "You must not be looking hard enough if you haven't found anything."

Sam frowned, "Dude, I've been searching non-stop for three days and all you've been doing is spending time with your boyfriend and drinking all the milk!"

"At least I don't suck at researching!"

"How the Hell would you know? You never do any!"

Whilst the brothers argued Gadreel and Cas whispered back and forth, amused at their significant others' behavior. When the argument escalated to the point where Dean damn near shoved his fist down Sam's throat Cas coughed loudly, commanding their attention.

"If I may interrupt?" he said. The Winchesters begrudgingly took their seats once again. "Gadreel and I have actually been doing our own research and this," he flipped Sam's computer around and typed something into the browser, "is what we found."

He turned the computer back to show the brothers the article he'd found.

It was time stamped just a week prior and loosely accounted the experience of an occult collector who had found some sort of crystal in his own back yard in Olympia Washington.

Dean nodded and slapped a hand on Cas' back, impressed.

"Well damn Cas, you'd be a pretty good hunter after all!"

Castiel smiled at the compliment, "Now I can't be sure but this sounds like my Grace, Gadreel and Cecilia think so as well."

"Alright," Sam said as he scanned the article and scooped Dean's cereal into his mouth when his brother wasn't looking, "when do we leave?"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean was having a hard time packing whatwith Cas' eyes on his back the whole time. He placed another one of his shirts into the bag and sighed, Cas would get fed up with waiting and just outright ask him soon. Why couldn't his brother just keep his fucking mouth shut?

"Did you tell them you loved them?"

Dean froze, that was not the question he'd anticipated. He turned slowly; trying hard to act like he wasn't terrified of this conversation.

"Tell who Cas?"

Castiel rolled his eyes and zipped up the duffel of weapons he'd packed. "The "skanky chicks" Sam mentioned. Did you tell them you loved them?"

"No!" Dean said, scandalized, "no, Cas, why would you even think that?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes a bit and shrugged, "It's not important… I just thought…"

"You thought that you were one of them." Dean whispered, surprised that he'd offered information to keep the uncomfortable conversation alive, "You don't believe that I love you."

Cas shook his head immediately. "It's not that I don't believe you. I think you love your conquests… for a time… then you get bored. I just wish you would tell me if that were the case so I could prepare – "

His speech was cut short by a crushing hug from Dean. His arms wrapped around Cas so quickly that his breath was knocked from his lungs. Castiel had to squirm to keep his nose from being smashed completely to Dean's shoulder.

"No Cas, it's just you – I mean… maybe I did let the L-bomb drop a few times but I wasn't _in love_ with them…" Dean sighed at his failed attempt at an explanation turned confession, "I'm in love with you. What can I do to prove that?"

Cas smiled against Dean's shoulder and snaked his arms around the taller man's waist, giving a quick hug before breaking away. Castiel placed a soft kiss on Dean's lips before strolling past the confused hunter with a grin on his face.

"If we don't hurry Sam will get mad."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"It was easier to drive with just Sam around." Dean muttered grumpily. Now, just off the tip of north eastern Oregon Gadreel and Sam were arguing loudly in the back seat over who gets the most leg room and Cas had his seat belt off and was leaned over the back of his seat trying to calm them down.

It was all just too damn domestic.

He sighed and cranked the music up a little bit louder, patting the dashboard of his baby affectionately.

"Just a few more hours baby, I'll make Gadreel and Sam fly home." He grinned momentarily at the thought of the bunker being his home before a wet sort of splash from the back seat reached his ears.

"Sam! You better not have spilled your fucking carrot hippy juice all over my car!"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean reached his arms above his head and stretched, groaning as his back cracked loudly. They'd only stopped three times on their trip to Washington once so Cas could use the bathroom and twice so Sam could buy snacks that he would then force Gadreel to try. The Angel had tried grape nuts and rejected them immediately, complaining that he could taste every molecule and that it was gross.

The other doors opened and shut as Cas, Sam, and Gadreel stumbled out of the Impala. Gadreel opened the trunk and grabbed the luggage without a word, packing it into the slightly less sleezy than usual hotel as Sam checked in at the front desk. Dean yawned loudly and stole a glance at Cas who stared uninterestedly at his shoes as he leaned on the hood of Dean's baby.

"Everything alright Cas?" he asked as he moved to sit next to his lover, slipping his hand into Castiel's. The man smiled, tears welling up in his eyes. He looked at Dean with a bright grin then up at the sky and the fluffy white clouds above them.

"It's here Dean, I can feel my Grace."

Dean grinned and gripped the back of Cas' neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

"And I'll find it for you if it takes me forever, Cas, I promise."


	14. Mercy Me

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**Author's Note:** Oh my damn your reviews make me so happy! Sorry for the wait ya'll I've been sick, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it! Still trying to get back into writing after that month or so off the grid so I apologize in advance for any mistakes, falsities, fuck ups or the like. Please enjoy!

**Chapter Thirteen:** Mercy Me

"Cas, I'm not sure I want you in the middle of this. It looks dangerous." Dean peaked over the top of Sam's laptop at the overtly grumpy expression on Castiel's face. He opened his mouth to rebut as Dean slid the computer around so he could see the floor-plan that Sam had somehow come across of the facility.

"Look at this." He pointed to the first floor, "They have cameras and armed guards and guard dogs Cas. It's not fun to get torn up by a dog, I should know."

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, "And you think I can't handle it?" suddenly Dean was glad there was a table placed between them because he had the sudden urge to kiss Cas and that would only serve to make him angrier.

Dean scoffed, "It's not that I think you can't handle it, I know you can take care of yourself it's just… I worry about you, I think… I mean… you can get hurt now and I couldn't take it if you were." Dean fidgeted nervously with the keypad on Sam's computer. He'd wanted to tell Cas he loved him, damn, he'd already done it but he was Dean Winchester for fuck's sake. Love wasn't really on his payroll. Castiel noticed his nervous fidgeting, his mouth twitched in a smile. He leaned over the table and shut the laptop, nearly catching Dean's fingers.

"I love you Dean." The hunter smiled across the table at Cas who reached across to place his hand over Dean's, "And because I love you I'm not about to let you dive headfirst into this thing alone," Dean frowned and Cas silenced him with another glare, "I _know_ Sam and Gadreel will be with you but you tend to run into these things half cocked and if you get yourself killed I'll be pissed."

Though they were in the heat of what, to them, could be considered an argument, hearing Castiel swear was not commonplace and usually occurred when Dean was making his vision blur. So when the curse rolled off Castiel's tongue it shot a current of pleasure straight to the pit of his stomach and he had to fight himself to not grab Cas and throw him on the bed right at that moment.

The alarm on Dean's phone exploded suddenly with the guitar solo from _Smoke on the Water_ by Deep Purple. He swore under his breath and shut the thing off, shoving it into his pocket.

"It's time to go."

"Yea," Dean stood and ran a hand through his hair. He tossed Castiel a small bag of black clothing. "Get dressed and then we'll go."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean cut the headlights a mile and a half away from the point where they'd meet their brothers so as not to be noticed by any neighbors. He was happy that, for once in the car's life, his baby had decided to run quietly and with a gentle cooperation that made him even prouder to own the car. One thing that wasn't being wonderfully quiet, though, was his boyfriend.

"Why do I have to wear all this black and you don't? If you're getting off on me looking like someone from one of your spy movies so help me Dean Winchester I'll –"

Dean wrapped his hand around the back of Castiel's neck suddenly and pulled him in for a kiss. Cas immediately knotted his fingers in Dean's hair, moaning into his touch.

Dean pulled away despite Castiel's protest and returned his attention to the road.

"That oughtta tide you over a while." He laughed, "I really hadn't thought of how sexy a spy you would be but I certainly am now. I figure the less the enemy sees of you the better chance you have of not being shot."

Cas frowned, not having any particularly witty response for that one as the Impala slowed to a stop one city block from their target right behind a blue Mustang that could only have belonged to Sam.

Without a word Dean turned off the car and got out, circling around to the trunk to retrieve several bags of equipment which he passed out to his three comrades. Sam gave him a questioning look and nodded towards Cas.

"I thought you were gonna leave him behind." Castiel scowled at being talked about like he wasn't around to hear them.

"He put up a good argument." Dean whispered, he pointed to his brother and Gadreel, "You two take the first floor, Cas and I got the second where this guy's gallery is. Keep your heads down, move fast, watch out for Angels. Got that?"

The others nodded and then they were gone. Castiel expected him and Dean to go too but the hunter simply leaned on his car and pulled two beers out of his bag. He handed one to Cas.

"Shouldn't we join them?" he asked. Dean shrugged.

"We've got time, they have to clear the whole first floor, Sam'll text when he's done then we'll do our thing." He took a sip of his beer and looked over his shoulder towards the house. It was more of a mansion really, two stories of flying buttresses, balconies, bay windows and gold leaf paint.

"You've been acting differently." Cas said suddenly. Dean glanced at him and sighed nonchalantly.

"Why in the world would you think that?"

Cas' eyes narrowed, he set his drink on the Impala's hood. "You don't want me to get my Grace back." It wasn't a question.

Dean coughed as he choked on a swig of beer.

"No Cas… it's not like that, I –" he expected Cas to be angry but his look was understanding, almost sympathetic. The kind love in his eyes caused the dam to rupture in Dean's head, "Every time I look at you now I see us growing old together, I mean… when you were an Angel you could just snap in and out of my life at the drop of a hat but now… now you're always here, I don't want to lose you again Cas, I love you."

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets in the hope that Castiel wouldn't see that he was shaking with the weight of his confession. If Cas was an Angel then he'd have to go back and help sort things out in Heaven and that meant more time away from Dean.

Castiel simply smiled and enveloped Dean in his arms. "Honestly, Dean, being an Angel isn't all it's cracked up to be. All that power and responsibility. Being human is so much slower, it's like every day is a million years." He looked up at Dean and smiled, "If it weren't for the trials I wouldn't want my Grace back anymore. I much prefer having you."

Before Dean could respond with an 'I want to fuck you right here on the street' his phone rang again, Sam had texted him. Dean didn't need to look at the message. He placed a kiss on the top of Castiel's head and pushed up off the car.

"We gotta go." He whispered.

Cas turned to lead the way with a smirk turning up his lips, "If we finish this task quickly I may show you how erotic the Grace of Heaven can be in bed."

Dean's jaw dropped as Cas walked away, he'd never thought of that before. He sent a quick text to Sam.

**Dean: Wrap this shit up quick Sammy!**

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean wheezed, out of breath, as he hauled his ass up the third flight of stairs after Cas who, good little soldier as he was, ran fuckin' everywhere.

"Come on Dean! There's only one more room!" Cas hissed. Dean mumbled various profanities as he stumbled into the hallway to see one grand door at the end of it.

"Gallery?" he coughed to hide another wheeze.

"I think so; my Grace should be right in there." Cas pressed his ear to the door before sinking to his knees. He held out his hand for the lock pick kit Dean handed him and got to work. He grinned triumphantly as the lock clocked open. Cas looked back at Dean for permission, when he nodded Castiel took in a deep breath and gave the door a shove.

He gasped and dean rushed forward to get a better look.

Behind the door was a bedroom rather than a gallery, with tens of hundreds of glass cases filled with cursed objects and maybe even a heavenly weapon or two surrounding one occupied king sized bed. On the bed rested an old man, or perhaps a corpse, dean couldn't discern which. There were IVs and wires, tubes and pill bottles everywhere and, sitting tucked in next to the old man's side, was a stone which swam with sapphire and pure white light.

"My Grace…" Castiel approached the bed without clearing the room and knelt at the old man's side. He peered at the sleeping face in awe and grief. "It's keeping him alive Dean, if I take it now he'll die."

When dean was satisfied that there was no one else in the room he joined Cas by the bed. The old man's chest slowly rose and fell, completely unaware that there were people surrounding him. It reminded him of Fred Jones the psychokinetic for a moment.

"Is there anything you can do?" Dean asked softly, Cas shook his head no.

"If I remove my Grace from his side he'll die." He looked up at Dean, "I don't know… what should I do Dean?"

Dean frowned; this guy didn't seem bad, if he died now he'd probably get a straight shot to Heaven and dean had been to Heaven. While his experiences had turned it into a bad place he remembered Pamela's words being some variation of: people suffer and struggle then they die and go to Heaven and things were good, so how was that bad?

"Will he go upstairs Cas?"

Castiel nodded, "He was a good man, he will be happy in Heaven."

Dean placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder, "Send him on Cas, he's had a long life, a good one." Dean motioned to his collection, "and I bet he won't mind if he knows he was helping an angel."

Castiel nodded again and laid his hand on the stone, honestly Dean expected Castiel to put up more of a fight about it. _He's still excited to get his Grace back._ Dean thought with a smile.

As the Grace was absorbed back into Castiel's body Dean felt a pulse in his head that shook the room and got stronger and stronger until it sounded like Castiel was screaming at him in his true voice.

Dean clapped his hands over his ears as his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor along with millions of shards of glass from the cases around them.

A white light.

Warmth spread through his body.

Then nothing.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"So… what do I do now?" Dean stumbled over his words as Cas sat in front of him on the bed. He'd gotten his Grace back successfully without any intervention from Bartholomew and they'd booked it the hell outta that old guy's house before the neighbors decided to check in on the guy and found him dead in his bed with a bunch of strange men surrounding him and now they were back in the hotel. Gadreel looked up from where he was patching up a bullet wound in Sam's shoulder when Castiel didn't answer.

"Castiel, this needs to happen so that we may move on to the next trial."

"O-of course." Stuttered Castiel, "If you wouldn't mind." He waved his hand and their brothers were gone. Dean blinked in surprise and turned back to Cas to see that the "new" Angel had turned around so that dean was facing his back.

"What do I do Cas?" Dean asked softly.

"Sharing bits of Grace is common for Angels." He said, "It's something that occurs as a sign of brotherhood and trust and sometimes… more. The last time this was done to me was when I was a part of the garrison."

Dean's mind was reeling, a million different scenarios and processes playing out behind his eyelids.

"I need you to groom my wings Dean… close your eyes."

Dean did as he was told as well as held his breath, flinching when a violent crash reached his ears and another blinding white light assaulted his closed eyes. He felt something soft brush against his cheek.

"You can look now Dean."

Dean opened his eyes wide immediately only to be forced to squint right away. Two large intimidating black wings protruded from Castiel's back, streaks and spots of electric blue colored them in places while being dark as the night sky in others.

"Cas." He breathed.

"Yes Dean?"

"Can I touch them?"

Castiel chucked and moved his joints a bit, causing his wings to puff out.

"That's the idea."

Dean reached out with a shaky hand and slowly petted along the top of the right wing. They were soft, like goose down but strong and hard; dean was sure that it would be damn impossible to break one.

He was brought back to his task by a strangled moan that tore from Castiel when his finger traced around one feather. Dean smirked and dragged his fingers downwards and then back up against the grain.

Cas hunched his back and gripped his knees as he tried, failing miserably, to suppress a violent shudder.

"How does it feel Cas?" he whispered as his hands stilled, half immersed in the soft feathers.

"Dean Winchester I swear to my Father that if you stop now I will smite you!"

"And you could," Dean tugged on a feather, causing Cas to yelp, "damn that's hot."

Castiel suddenly growled and whirled around, pinning dean to the bed.

"What about the trial Cas –" Dean snapped his mouth shut when Cas' hand cupped Dean's crotch.

"Two birds with one stone." He said darkly.


	15. Trial by Fire

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**AN: I'm planning probably one more chapter before wrapping this one up and moving on to something else, thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this and all my bad behavior!**

**Chapter Fourteen: Trial by Fire**

Its early morning when an ear splitting racket pulls Dean from the embrace of a good night's rest. He's lying on his side, arms wrapped around Castiel's waist. Dean smiled as Cas let out a breathy sigh and snuggled into him, still asleep. Once there was a time when snuggling with anyone wasn't even an option but there, curled around Cas on his memory foam mattress, cuddling was all he wanted to do.

Dean winced and scowled as someone's fist pounded into his bedroom door. Didn't they know he was trying to sleep?

He untangled his arms from around Cas and his legs from the sheets and scooted carefully to the edge of the bed until he was safely able to get up without waking Cas. As he began to turn away the sparkling glint of something shiny caught his eye. Dean tucked his hand under the pillow only to find one of Castiel's feathers, a large back sleek feather with electric blue tips on the ruffled tufts.

A knock on the door.

Dean quickly shut the feather in his nightstand drawer before finally answering his summons.

"What do you want?" he whispered harshly as he yanked the door open to reveal a very pale Sam. Gadreel, who was in most cases Sam's shadow, was nowhere to be found.

Sam looked away from his brother quickly, "Dude! Could you at least put some shorts on?"

Dean looked down at himself and realized after he'd "completed the first trial" with Cas he'd never put clean boxers on. Dean scowled at his little brother.

"No. You wake me up too damn early in the morning with an Angel waiting in my bed you gotta deal with the consequences."

Sam wrinkled his nose, still not looking at Dean.

"Well, Crowley's been asking for you for a while now and he's getting kinda impatient."

Dean raised a brow in confusion, "Crowley's here?"

"Yea."

"Why does he need to talk to me?" Dean glanced past Sam up and down the hall, "And where's your boyfriend?"

Sam glanced at his brother and then away, "He's watching Crowley with Cecilia, just get dressed and get out here okay?" Sam rushed down the hall to the front room where Crowley would be throwing a fit over their craptastic taste in scotch.

Dean grunted and retreated back into the room, closing the door behind him.

On the bed Castiel propped himself up on his elbows, too blue eyes shining with what Dean could only identify as love.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

Dean went rummaging through the drawers looking for a fresh pair of boxers, "I thought you were asleep Cas." He said, completely ignoring the Angel's question.

"Angels don't sleep Dean, I can close my eyes and rest but I do not sleep. What did Sam want?"

Dean pulled on a clean pair of underwear and pants as well as a plain white tee, prolonging the eminent answer Cas was looking for. It just so happened that he and Crowley didn't really appreciate each other's company.

"Apparently… Crowley wants to have a chat." He tossed Castiel clothes to put on, knowing that the Angel had zapped them clean at some point during the night.

"Why?" Castiel asked as he pulled his head through the neck hole of a soft blue polo.

"Nothing good I'm sure." Cas stood up and Dean crossed the room in two steps, taking Castiel's face in his hands, brushing their lips together.

"Good morning Cas."

"Good morning Dean." They were close enough that Dean could clearly feel Castiel's arousal through his jeans and chuckled silently to himself, if he had any more time before he had to go get rid of Crowley he'd be all over that.

Dean dropped his hand to his side, grasping Castiel's as he led him out of the room and down the hall where their family – and Crowley – was waiting.

"Ah, good morning squirrel, I see you've completed the first trial." Crowley smirked at the two who had some very visible hickies running up their necks. "But now's no time to lay down on the job," he motioned to Sam and Gadreel who, oddly enough, looked nervous as Hell, "the second trial is upon us and these two dunderheads have already fucked it up."

Dean frowned at his brother. Sam refused to meet his gaze.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Your idiot brothers used all the holy oil and now you've got none to walk through." Crowley rolled his eyes, "Get with the program squirrel, I've known for days."

Dean's jaw dropped open as he looked back and forth between his brother and the King of Hell.

"You," he said to Crowley, "Cecilia hasn't told me about the second trial yet, and you," he looked to Sam, "when did you use up all the holy oil?"

"We may have used it as lube?" Sam shrunk back in his chair at the look of disbelief on Dean's face, before he could say anything, though, Cas piped up.

"Where's Cecilia?" he asked, glancing around the room.

"She's right here, safe and sound." Crowley patted the breast pocket of his suit jacket gently and the small head of the cherubim popped out the top. She grinned and flew to Castiel, chattering congratulations on the return of his Grace and pecking him on the cheek before perching on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"The little beauty wanted a chat with someone other than her squirrel and I simply offered a kind ear." Crowley crossed his arms over his chest with a smug look on his face.

Dean scowled, "You're lying, I'm the only one who can talk to her."

Crowley gave him a flat look, "You already know I can speak Angel pigeon, how hard is it to believe I can understand her gibberish?"

Dean shot Cecilia an irritated look, "Tell me." He commanded. Cecilia shrugged and leaved over Cas' shoulder, holding onto a lock of his hair so as to not fall and tapped Dean's jaw. Those damnable blue runes rippled across his flesh and Dean recoiled slightly from her touch, a much better reaction than that first night when he'd damn near passed out from the pain.

Dean's eyes widened then narrowed at his brother.

"She says that the second trial is to "gain the favor of Heaven" or some shit like that, by bathing in holy fire, of which we have none. Really Sam?" he looked at Gadreel who avoided dean's gaze ever-so-slightly, "I thought you would know better, can't that stuff kill you?"

Gadreel shook his head, "Only when lit can holy oil kill an angel."

Dean threw his hands up in the air, "Now what do we do? We've got no holy oil, Bartholomew breathing down our necks and two more trials to finish!"

Crowley cleared his throat loudly.

"What?" Dean growled. Cas took his hand and petted up and down Dean's arm to calm him. Dean leaned into the touch.

From his pants pocket Crowley produced a single vial of a yellowish substance which could only be –

"Holy oil," said Sam, "where did you get that?"

Crowley shrugged, "I'm like the little sister you never wanted, whenever big brothers have something cool I want it too."

"So you stole it." Gadreel stated, obviously not liking the idea of Crowley slinking around in the bunker without supervision.

"And you're lucky I did." Crowley quipped, "And it just so happens that I have enough holy oil and a powerful King-of-Hell level spell to finish your trial."

"Why should we trust you?" Castiel asked as he poked at his 'little' sister who was at that moment attempting to braid his hair.

Crowley rolled his eyes again, "Why are the pretty ones always so dumb? Because like I said before, Barty's planning on taking all my precious souls away and I don't really want that to happen _and_ it's nice to not be the villain numero uno sometimes _and_ you idiots need a swift kick in your squishy bits because Barty's on the move and you aren't doing anything to stop him!"

The whole of the Winchester clan stayed silent a moment after Crowley's outburst until Sam spoke up.

"That's impossible; I check for heavenly omens everyday on the news and online and get nothing."

"We would have sensed his militarization." Gadreel said, motioning to himself and his siblings.

Crowley brought a palm to his forehead and sighed harshly, "You kids don't know a thing do you? Don't you wonder why Barty and got god squad didn't show up to stop you at the first trial?" when his question was met with a chorus of blank faces Crowley continued, "He was _here_ altering your access to the outside world so you wouldn't notice him and get your ever fine asses into gear. He's been ripping people's souls out all over the world!"

Crowley snapped his fingers and the television turned on and flipped a few channels before settling on the ten 'o clock news on channel two.

Displayed for the whole residency of the bunker to see were about three hundred and fifty bodies lined up shoulder to shoulder on the streets of a Brazilian city. As the news casters spoke mothers cried over their children in the background, wailing their grief. The channel switched to show Washington D.C., Ontario, Paris, England, Taiwan, Beijing, Tokyo and on and on until Crowley had shown them millions of bodies from every country on earth.

Dean's heart sank and suddenly he felt sick. This was his fault. He should have realized sooner. All those souls. All those _people_ with lives and loved ones and jobs and mortgages.

Suddenly Dean broke and ran to the kitchen where he bent over dry heaving into the trash can. His head screamed with the images of millions of mangled bodies and obviously Angel blade wounds.

IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT.

Dean flinched when he felt a soothing hand rubbing circles into his back and cool fingers running through his hair. Castiel cooed encouraging words affectionately into Dean's ear, effectively calming him down just enough for him to be able to stand again.

Dean threw his arms around Castiel, pulling him close. In all honesty it wasn't the bodies that had elicited this creation from Dean nor the sheer number of corpses nor the guilt. It was the mothers. Cradling the limp heads of their sons and daughters in their laps, tears streaming down their faces, knowing that while they had lived, they would be empty for the rest of their lives.

He'd almost lost Cas that way once, he'd lost Sam already, he could lose Gadreel and Cecilia at any moment. He'd gotten Charlie killed too.

A silent sob wracked his body as he hugged Castiel. He was thankful that the others had stayed away; they didn't need to see him like this.

Eventually Dean was able to regain control on his emotions and peel himself off of Castiel who looked up at him with concern swimming in his eyes.

"I'm alright," Dean said as he dragged a hand down his face, ridding himself of a few straggling tears. Without another word he wrapped an arm around Cas' waist and re-entered the front room. His gaze was steely and determined as Cecilia flew to him and the others gave him their attention.

"Alright," he said, decidedly keeping his eyes from the television which still clicked between disturbing images, "Let's do this!"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Once again the Winchester clan had no choice but to place their trust in their very own former punk ass crossroads demon as Crowley dished out orders and handed out Angel blades. No one dared ask where he'd gotten so many.

It was: Sam get this, Gadreel go to Israel and get seventeen pounds of that, Castiel go to Peru and find this animal, don't kill it. Dean say here, we can't risk getting you killed. It was: watch out for Angels, cover your tracks and hurry back. We need to get this show on the road.

Dean sat in one of the many overtly fluffy arm chairs in the living room tapping his fingers on the arm to the tune of Zepp's _Ramble On_ as he watched Crowley paint the floor of his home with various sigils and signs. The most Crowley had allowed him to do was help the King of Hell move furniture.

Crowley finally stood up from where he was crouched on the floor and grinned, admiring his work.

"That's the end of that," he said triumphantly, then to Dean, "come here squirrel."

Dean obeyed out of sheer boredom.

"What is that?" he asked, it looked like alchemy but he wasn't quite sure, Sam would know.

"It's a spell dumbass," Crowley said, "when your friends get back with the rest of the ingredients you'll stand in the center and we'll lay the holy oil on the lines and light it. You will be consumed by flames for only a moment but so long as you don't panic and cross the outer circle you won't die."

Crowley pointed out special additions and modifications he'd made and explained to Dean the function of each and every aspect of the spell, assuring him again and again that it was safe; just don't let any Angels touch it.

Crowley halted his explanation when Dean stopped answering and asking questions.

"What's wrong squirrel?" he asked kindly, or as kind as a demon could be.

Dean shook his head, "You're helping us for your own advantage, I get that, but you're still helping." Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "So yea, thanks man." He extended a hand to Crowley and the King of Hell returned his handshake.

Crowley's expression suddenly darkened.

"First thing Monday morning after this is all over I'm going to have your head on a pike at the entrance to Hell."

Dean frowned despite the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement, "And I'll have a King of Hell skin rug on my floor."

The two broke into a fit of laughter and for a moment they weren't the king of hell and a vicious hunter. They just were.

They both halted their joviality when the front door clicked open and Sam, Castiel and Gadreel walked in. Dean had expected for Castiel to just appear at his side like he used to but then remembered that the extensive warding kept him from doing any such thing.

The boys laid their spoils on the table next to Crowley and joined Dean to the side – the Angels further away than the Winchesters – as the King of Hell put together his sinister concoction.

After what seemed like an eternity he straightened his back and motioned for Dean to step into the circle. With one more squeeze of Castiel's hand Dean strode past the others, taking his place at the center.

One by one candles were lit and holy oil was poured.

Crowley looked to Dean for permission as he lit the match.

Dean nodded, looking straight ahead, muscles clenched and jaw set, "Do it."

As Crowley dropped the match to the oil the room erupted in the roar of flames and the bellow of Crowley chanting Enochian over the blaze as well as a shriek that started out so quiet then escalated to the point where Dean was certain his ears were bleeding.

He panicked as the flames licked at his legs and forearms, slowly climbing his body.

"Dean!" his head snapped to the side and he almost took a step towards Castiel's fearful cry, opting to answer instead but found his vocal cords to be otherwise occupied.

He'd been the one screaming.

Dean fought to control his heart rate as his lungs filled with smoke and his knees buckled as he coughed. He forced open his eyes which he hadn't noticed were closed and sat shocked in awe.

The colors swirling around him were what he thought Heaven would be before he'd had the chance to experience the real deal first hand. The flames danced and swayed and spoke only to him, the prophet, the one, _he_ would end all this suffering.

The flames seemed to smile and dry the tears in Dean's eyes.

He was blessed by that smile, the life in those flames.

He could_ see_ God.

Dean couldn't be sure when the blaze subsided or when Sam dragged him out of the circle, even when Castiel threw himself over dean in a bruising hug or when everyone else – save Crowley – joined in the group hug. All he was aware of for one long terrifying moment was the pulsing pain in his body and how tired he was. He looked down at his arms which were pinned to his sides to see that they were pulsing the same pink, magenta, red color as when Sam had given the Hell trials a go. They had given up that endeavor due to extenuating circumstances and Sam had been confined to bed rest for a month and now Dean knew why.

It hurt like Hell.

Suddenly the edges of his vision were blurred and he slumped forward. Someone caught him. His eyes darted erratically until he found Cecilia.

"Next trial –"

Then he was out.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Castiel sat at Dean's bedside pumping Grace into his veins in hopes that he would heal quicker. The mess in the front room had been long since cleaned up and Crowley had gone. Castiel hadn't been all that happy to see Crowley but the King of Hell hadn't given him shit about his betrayal as though it had been forgotten, or at least put on the back burner.

"How is he?" Cas glanced over his shoulder to see that Sam had entered the room and brought food for the next time Dean woke up.

"He's doing well I think." Castiel smiled a little as he caressed the back of Dean's had, "He awoke about an hour ago and relayed to me the details of the third and final trial to close the gates of Heaven."

Sam raised a brow and took a seat next to Cas, "What is it?" he asked.

Castiel's smile faltered, "He must tear off the wings of an Angel."

Sam pinched his eyebrows together in concern, "That can't be right. How are we going to find an Angel who –"

"It's quite alright Sam," Castiel interrupted, "we do not have to put any one of us in danger finding another one of my brothers. I have already volunteered myself."


	16. If You're Out There

**Title: Heaven's Intentions**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.**

**Rating: M for mature audiences only**

**Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?**

**AN: Oh my God! It's finally done! I'd like to thank the academy and everyone who stuck with me through this magnificent train wreck! I love you all! I'm planning to come back with something new very soon so keep your eyes open, thank you for all the reviews and follows and favorites and support. Stay awesome people of the internet!**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter Fifteen: If You're Out There**

Dean's head was in a haze; it seemed that everything he looked at was warped. He swerved lazily down the hall, finding it unbearably difficult to place the correct foot in the right spot for walking. He stumbled but caught himself on the wall. He had to find Sam. He had to find Sam and tell him what Cas said and find another Angel, _any_ Angel that wasn't Cas, he wouldn't rip Cas' wings off of him even if his life depended on it.

Suddenly Dean felt like vomiting but forced it down. Not this time. He was going to find Sam, he wasn't going to let Cas see him and drag him back to bed. That shit had been going on for a fuckin' week. They needed this. The trials had to be done. One foot in front of the other.

"Sam!" Dean squawked as he pounded his fist against his brother's door.

The door opened and Dean almost fell forward but was able to catch himself. He stood there for a moment with arms outstretched until he regained his balance.

"What are you doing Dean? You should be in bed."

Dean forced himself to stand up straight and decidedly ignored that both his little brother and Gadreel were without shirt, in a room that was once locked, together. He also didn't care if he was being a massive cock block; he needed Sam's help damnit!

"We can't let Cas get his wings ripped off." Dean slurred, swaying a bit on his feet.

Sam frowned and led Dean to sit on the bed where Gadreel had miraculously donned a shirt.

"Isn't this something you should be talking to Cas about?" asked Sam.

Dean's eyes widened suddenly and he shook his head, looking very much at that moment like a sick child.

"No!" he barked, "Can't talk to Cas, he'll throw some logic at me and I won't be able to say no."

Sam looked at Gadreel as though for permission to say something. Gadreel just shrugged.

"Actually, Dean, Gadreel and I had an idea about that. We need an Angel that we don't care about, for lack of a better phrase, and we don't want Cecilia, Cas and Gadreel to get sent back to Heaven when this is all over right?" Dean nodded, "So do you remember when we were looking for Anna's Grace and Uriel had it kept in that little bottle?" Dean nodded again, trying to keep up with Sam through the haze in his head.

"What if we seal up their Grace in bottles so they always have it but they won't go to Heaven when you close the gates?"

Dean thought about it a moment.

"But what if Cas doesn't want to give up his Grace again, you saw how miserable he was without it. What if he says no?" Dean fidgeted with a loose string on the hem of his shirt, "What if he leaves?"

"You know he won't do that Dean," Sam said as he took a seat next to his brother on the bed, "Cas loves you and if giving up his Grace is what he has to do to be with you, he'll do it."

"Yea… that's great Sam but what do we do about the Angel wings?" he asked, rolling his eyes at his brother's heart-to-heart moment.

Sam looked to Gadreel again, "I suggest we tear Bartholomew's wings from his back," Said Gadreel, "we will need you to lure him out in the open and when he is not expecting it, clip his wings."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"I still don't think this is a good idea." Cas complained from the back seat of the Impala where he cradled a woozy Dean who had suddenly taken to getting carsick.

"You're just mad 'cuz we won't let you martyr yourself." Dean choked.

"No, I am concerned because we are about to use you as bait and you're still sick." Cas practically shouted, "Why am I the only one not okay with this, why are you okay with this Sam?"

"It was his idea." Said Gadreel.

"Sam!"

"He'll be fine Cas, all of us will be there to defend him if things get out of hand," Sam held up a gun, "I even made Angel blade bullets if things get too hairy. He. Will. Be. Fine."

Castiel frowned and patted Dean's back as he retched into the bucket on the floor for the third time since they'd began their trip.

"I still don't like this," Cas said as Sam stopped the car and turned the engine off. He and Gadreel retrieved all they'd need from the trunk and Castiel hauled his seemingly inebriated boyfriend from the car.

The location Sam and Dean had chosen was field on the outskirts of a small rural town in Colorado. No one owned the field so they wouldn't mind if two hunters and two Angels ripped out another Angel's wings in broad daylight on their property.

Dean thanked Cas once he was out of the car and safely seated on the trunk. Cas didn't answer but crossed his arms with a huff and leaned against the car staring straight ahead. Dean sighed. Cas was pissed.

He would be even more pissed if he knew anything about what else he and Sam had discussed the night they made their plan.

They would first extract their friends' Grace then lay a trap for Bartholomew and clip his wings. The trials would be completed. The gates of Heaven would close.

And Dean would die.

That was one danger of Sam's Hell trials that he hadn't forgot about. Sam had been within an inch of his life when he quit trying to close off Hell.

Dean glanced out of the corner of his eye at Cas. It was killing him to not tell his lover that he was about to die but Cas would stop him and they couldn't afford to chicken out on this one, Castiel would have to go on without him. Dean had even gone so far as to make Sam promise that he would keep Castiel on suicide watch after he was gone. He wanted Castiel to live a long life after him, a good life, and when Cas died and joined Dean in Heaven he would have Cas tell him his story.

Dean smiled at the thought as Sam came jogging over with one little bottle in his hand. Gadreel followed, looking a little tired; around his neck was a vial of swimming blue liquid on a black cord. His Grace. Gadreel was human, as was Cecilia who they'd left home with Charlie to watch over her.

"Your turn Cas." Sam said and handed Castiel the bottle.

Castiel glanced at Dean and then to everyone else.

"Close your eyes." He instructed, and they obeyed. There was a single white light that immediately have Dean a headache, it was over.

You can open your eyes.

Dean did so and there was Cas, looking no different from earlier except that there now hung a beautiful blue necklace 'round his neck.

Castiel chuckled and placed a hand over his heart.

"I had almost forgotten what a heartbeat feels like. It is strange."

Dean cast one long look of adoration at his lover before reaching out and wrapping his hand around the back of Castiel's head, pulling him in for one long kiss. Sam cleared his throat loudly and the two broke apart. Dean gave Cas one more peck on the lips.

"Well, I guess that's my cue." Said Dean as he hopped to the ground, gritting his teeth against the pain he felt upon hitting the ground, "You got everything set up Sam?"

His little brother nodded and shot twin looks of caution at their boyfriends as he led Dean into the field. Sam situated his brother in the exact spot where he needed to stand. Before he retreated he threw his arms around Dean's neck.

"I'm gonna miss you man." He whispered so that Dean wouldn't hear his voice crack.

"Yea," Dean smiled and patted his little brother's back, "you too Sammy. Take care of our idiots."

Sam pushed himself off Dean, keeping his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Of course, I hope you're okay with not seeing him for a while."

"Yea, it's alright," Dean said, still smiling, "if I see any of you before forty years from now I'll be pissed."

Sam laughed, a strangled, heartbroken sound, "I'm sure you will," he rubbed at his eyes and retracted his hands, handing Dean a small lighter, "good luck Dean."

"Thanks Sammy."

And then Dean was alone. In that big field with a lighter in his hand and his death on his mind. He shifted his arm a bit in his coat; the weight of the Angel blade he was carrying was still unfamiliar. Dean supposed he should think this all too unfair but he just couldn't. He'd done enough bad things in his life to warrant an end like this. His mind wandered back a few years to Sam's friend Amy… Yea, he could deal with this kind of death.

"Time to get this show on the road." He mumbled, he dropped to his knees, bowing his head and clasping his hands around the lighter in front of him, "Alright, listen up you flying ass monkey, I got a deal for you Bartholomew and if you wanna hear it come down here alone, you don't bring the God squad and I won't bring team free will."

"That's very brave of you Dean." A smarmy voice said in front of him. Dean looked up to see Bartholomew's triumphant grin as an Angel blade descended from his sleeve, "Serving up the prophet to me on a silver platter," he clicked his tongue disapprovingly, "and here I thought you weren't stupid."

Dean stood, cursing his wobbly legs, to face Bartholomew "Yea, well maybe I got a plan."

Bartholomew threw his head back and laughed, "What plan could you possibly have to stop me? I assume you've seen at least some of my work? You know I cannot be defeated."

"I dunno," Dean said as he dug a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it between his lips. He was never really one for smoking considering how much running was involved when you were a hunter. He figured that if Bartholomew knew anything about humans he would think Dean was doing the last smoke thing. When Bartholomew didn't make a move Dean smirked and lit up.

He looked up at the sky and continued to light and put out his lighter. The constant Click Click Click kept him grounded to the moment.

"Beautiful day to die isn't it?" he murmured. The lighter fell from his hand at the exact same moment that Bartholomew caught on.

The enraged Angel shrieked and launched himself at Dean but it was too late. The holy oil circle that Sam had laid out went up in flames. A great ring surrounded the two of them and a smaller one encircled just Dean in case of the scenario that Bartholomew had brought the cavalry anyway.

Dean smirked again, flicking his cigarette away and taking a step through the fire which seemed to simply bow out of his way.

Even though he was trapped Bartholomew was not about to give up. Careful to steer clear of the raging flames around him he rushed at Dean again, blade brandished and seeking blood but just as Bartholomew's blade was about to bite into Dean's neck metal clashed against metal as Dean's own blade caught Bartholomew's blow.

Bartholomew recoiled suddenly as Dean's hand delved into his pocket and he swung a flask of yellowish liquid in the Angel's face.

Holy oil.

Then everything stopped. The snarl on Bartholomew's face deepened as Dean's hand rocketed forward to grab around the back of Bartholomew's neck. The Angel could make a move and risk Dean having another lighter and burning him to a crisp, or he could wait for an opening, leaving himself open to whatever it was that Dean was about to do.

Dean grinned.

"Yup, beautiful day to die."

His blade caught the skin of Bartholomew's throat and Dean's triumphant grin and the tears welling in his eyes were erased by an explosion of searing light. So many times hotter than holy fire. So many times louder than the sound of the true voice of an Angel. So much more beautiful than anything Dean had ever seen before. More beautiful than the day his parents brought his new baby brother home from the hospital, and holy fire, and Cas.

Castiel.

For a moment Dean was nowhere, floating in space with the warmth of victory in death spreading through his body.

The next moment there were voices around him, though not those of Sam and Cas, but the voices of Angels, thousands upon thousands of Angels.

Dean's eyes snapped open and he sat up, hand flying to his mouth on instinct but this time finding that he was not sick. Was he dead?

_Yes_.

Dean's head pounded with the force of the answer to his unstated question. But how was he dead?

_Don't you remember Dean_? "You closed the gates."

Suddenly the voice had a face. Dean squinted, eyebrows drawn together.

"Chuck?"

That was right. Chuck Shurley smiled down at Dean, extending a hand to help him up. Behind him stood legion upon legion of Angels. Dean stood but promptly fell back to the floor in realization. The face he'd seen in the holy fire –

Dean raised a shaky hand to rub his eyes in awe as though the image before him was but a hallucination.

"You're –"

"That's right Dean." Instead of helping the hunter up again Chuck sat cross legged across from Dean with a calm smile on his face. "I am truly sorry to have dragged you into this, but I needed someone I knew I could trust to send my petulant children home. That was you Dean."

"God trusts me…" Dean mumbled, both feeling like hiding and singing.

"Yes Dean," said Chuck, "You've done well and I don't know about you but I think it's about time you got your reward."

Before Dean could register what was going on, before he could ask all the questions bouncing off the walls of his brain, Chuck pulled him into a hug.

"You'll have everything you ever wanted Dean, but you have to wake up for me first."

_Wake up Dean._

_Wake up._

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Dean!" Castiel shook Dean's shoulder again, continuing to call his name. By this time Sam had stopped trying to get Castiel to come away from the body or calm down, he was too far gone. Cas wasn't even supposed to see this, Sam was supposed to drag Castiel away before he could figure out what had happened to Dean but he had fought his way out of Sam and Gadreel's hold.

"Wake up Dean, please, please don't do this." Cas grabbed Dean's hand with one hand and placed the other on the side of the hunter's face. He would wake up. He just had to try. WHY WASN'T HE TRYING?

Castiel paused, breath hitching in his lungs, as he lowered his forehead to Dean's chest, knowing that there would be no lung expansion, no heartbeat, but not willing to accept it. Not yet.

Castiel saw the Angel blade in Dean's hand glinting dangerously with the dwindling light of sunset. He could still be with Dean. It wouldn't be so bad to go back to Heaven so long as he was with Dean. Castiel's fingers twitched in anticipation as his hand began to leave Dean's cheek.

"Don't you even think about it." a voice below Castiel croaked.

The former Angel sat up immediately and their brothers rushed to his side as his eyes met with two soft green ones.

"Dean."

The hunter smiled past his pale translucent skin and the dark bags beneath his eyes.

"Hey Cas." Suddenly Dean sat up, doubling over in a coughing fit. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, both calming him down and keeping Castiel from falling apart.

Castiel sobbed into Dean's shoulder as the hunter swathed Cas in his arms. Dean looked up at Sam and Gadreel with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Miss me Sammy?" and suddenly their brothers had descended upon him as well. They knocked the breath out of him but Dean didn't mind. He was alive. Cas was alive. Heaven was full of Angels. Everything was as it should be.

Sam helped his brother and Cas to their feet before trapping Dean in another bruising hug.

"Dude, how are you alive!"

Dean smiled as though he had a secret, "I guess someone really didn't want me to be done just yet –" his knees buckled. He was caught by Gadreel.

"We need to get you home to rest," he said. Though Gadreel didn't cry freely like their brothers, Dean could see the slight upturning of the man's mouth as they led him back to the Impala.

Dean and Cas hunkered down in the back seat, Cas refused to take his hands off of Dean lest he suddenly go up in smoke. Dean laughed and pulled Cas in closer, about to make a joke at his lover's expense when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

He thought he saw Chuck Shurley leaning against an old rotted out wooden fence post but when he turned his head the man was gone.

Dean smiled and kissed the top of Castiel's head. He closed his eyes listening to the sound of his baby on the road, fatigue and the promise of sleep overtaking him when, at the last possible second before unconsciousness, Dean heard a light chuckle resounding in his ears.

_Have a good life Dean._

FIN.


End file.
